


Baltic Adventure

by constantlearner



Category: Lord Peter Wimsey - Dorothy L. Sayers, Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
Genre: Escape, F/M, Goblin - Freeform, Nazis, Own Characters - Freeform, Sea Bear, Spying, pre World War 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 75,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2164926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constantlearner/pseuds/constantlearner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set spring/ summer 1938. With war increasingly likely, the Admiralty need updated charts of the Baltic Sea. Amateur yachtsmen and women are discretely asked to help with this, under the guise of leisurely pleasure cruising. The Swallow, Amazons and Callums are among them. Naval Lieutenant John Walker has been asked to do a little more than that and Nancy inevitably gets involved the task.<br/>Involves danger and some (not graphic) violence in a few chapters. A warning will be put at the start of any chapter with a fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Captain Walker is up to something

 

** Captain Walker is up to something **

** April 1938 - Easter holidays **

Daddy was most definitely up to something, Titty thought. She was delighted to travel north to the lakes, naturally, even though she was accompanied only by her father and Bridget and had plenty of school work to take with her.  Roger was visiting the Broads with Dick who was down from Cambridge for his Easter vacation. John was on his ship and Susan was at her hospital, of course.

Daddy had caught an earlier train than the one Peggy had suggested, but seemed quite happy to wander around “Rio” which was much less crowded than it was in the summer.  He suggested that Titty and Bridget sat down by the landing stage with the luggage and wandered off by himself. He normally walked briskly, although he never appeared hurried. Titty felt his air of casualness was a bit too studied. He was definitely planning something. Titty was so convinced of this that she more than half expected to see the Swallow tied up at the jetty and would not have been surprised to see Dorothea or Dick there.

However, only little Amazon was there, at the end of her painter.  Both girls were cold and Bridget was frankly bored by the time Daddy came back, walking more briskly this time. Peggy came hurrying along a few minutes later, hat pulled down firmly and collar up against the wind.

“Have you been waiting long? You both look very cold.” She said as she quickly stowed their luggage in the bow of the Amazon.

“Not long” Daddy replied.

Peggy glanced at him curiously. “We’ll just have enough light to sail across” was all she said.

The welcome at Beckfoot was as warm as ever, although somewhat subduedwithout Nancy. 

The next morning was clear and bright but cold. Daddy asked to be shown Wild Cat Island and Cormorant Island. He had the three girls taking compass bearings, as they had long ago when they were making their map the Secret water and its surroundings. He produced out of his pocket a lead and line and had Peggy teach the Bridget how to use it.They sailed on to Horseshoe cove and made a fire for tea. They all walked up to Swainson’s farm together and admired Mary’s little girl. Daddy then said he would walk home along the road, leaving the three girls to sail back to Beckfoot by themselves.  

“See if Bridget handles a boat as well as she thinks she can” he said.

“Right then, Bridget,” said Peggy, “you give the orders to Titty. I’m the passenger.”

The wind was from the south, but had dwindled to the lightest of breezes and a fine drizzle had set in by the time they entered the Amazon river.

“You handled her well.” Peggy commented as they walked up the Beckfoot lawn.   

“It’s bad enough Daddy testing me all the time, without Peggy starting it” grumbled Bridget to Titty as they change out of their damp clothes before the dinner. “I do think being the youngest is unfair.  Susan and John were bossing everyone else around at the age I am now. John was captain of the Swallow.  No-one kept checking up on them all the time and seeing if they could do things. Peggy isn’t even my sister and she bosses me about.”

“Susan and John took a lot of responsibility looking after you so that you could join in adventures when you were younger. Nancy and Peggy could easily have complained when they put you first so often – some of Susan’s other friends did, but not Nancy and Peggy.”

“Susan never told me that!”

 “Of course she didn’t.” said Titty more gently. “She’s always trying to protect you. She wouldn’t have hurt your feelings. That’s what it is you know, protection, not bossiness for the sake of it.”

“Anyway, they got to sail about by themselves, without any one checking how good they were or saying don’t do this or that.” grumbled Bridget.

“There were plenty of restrictions and rules and promises we had to keep. You just can’t remember them – or you thought it was just the rest of us being bossy. And John did sail very, very well indeed. So did Nancy, so did Peggy. I don’t think we realised it at the time, Roger and I. We just took it for granted. John didn’t have that much chance to practise before we came to the Lakes for the first time – just those few weeks at Falmouth with Daddy.”

Bridget thought guiltily of the weekends her father had spent teaching her to sail in a hired dinghy while the others were away at boarding school.  Daddy had been stationed in England ever since Bridget was four. She remembered Roger in a rare moment of confidence telling her how anxious he had been as a six-year old that he wouldn’t recognise his father when he came home on leave.

“And you know,” he had continued “I probably only had seen him once before for a few weeks, when I was four. It was his voice I recognised.”

Whilst she reflected, Titty had gathered up and folded their discarded clothes. She paused by the door before leading the way downstairs.

“It probably helps that I’ve been the youngest and the oldest.” She said.

“What do you mean? You’re the middle one.” Bridget replied.

Titty was relieved that the tone of complaint was gone from her sister’s voice.

“When I’m only with Roger or only with you and Roger, I’m the oldest. It’s my responsibility if anything goes wrong. When I’m with John and Susan, or even Nancy and Peggy, I’m responsible for what I do, of course, but not for their actions. That’s like being the youngest. And of course I remember what it felt like all the times when John and Susan were allowed to do things and I wasn’t old enough.  Sometimes they didn’t do things they could have done, because Roger and I weren’t old enough. That made it easier when I couldn’t do things because Roger couldn’t do them with me.”

Peggy was beating a rapid tattoo upon the gong, so they fled downstairs.  

The meal was uncharacteristically quiet for a Beckfoot meal, Titty thought, although she realised that there must have been many much quieter since Nancy started her PE training. The day’s doings were recounted to Mrs. Blackett, who in turn tentatively asked Captain Walker about the chances of another war.

“I think it’s inevitable.” He replied. “It doesn’t take two governments to make a war – just one. Unless Hitler suddenly starts to keep his promises, or unless we totally abandon any attempt to keep ours, war will come.”

Mrs. Blackett nodded.

“I thought as much.” She said. “I wondered if I was being overly pessimistic. Nancy has been saying as much for over a year now. I thought it might be just her being…. Well you know.”

“Nancy” supplied Peggy. 

“Anyway,” said Mrs. Blackett. “If, or when it does happen, I wondered if you might like to evacuate Bridget and her mother to us, rather than have her go to total strangers. They’ll be safe here if they’re safe anywhere and I’d love to have Mary’s company. Titty, too, if she doesn’t mind sharing a room with Peggy or Bridget. If the food situation is anything like the last war, they’ll eat better here too.”

“If war comes, Peggy won’t be sleeping here that often. “said Peggy.  “Not unless they decide I’m only fit for the land army and send me up to Low farm. Jackie will volunteer, I’m sure of it”

“I think you’ll find have to be fit alright for the land army” said Captain Walker drily.

“Oh, I realise that.” said Peggy.  Both she and Nancy had worked hard throughout many Whitsun half-terms to help at their neighbours get the hay in. The row when the Great-aunt had heard of it had been stupendous. “I realise that an army marches on its stomach, too, but with all the effort we’ve put in to learning Morse and so on over the years, I was hoping I could do something more, well, immediate. I can cook without a lot of equipment as well as in a normal kitchen. And I can drive a car and do some repairs and operate a switch-board” She grinned. “And I didn’t get to be Nancy’s sister without learning to take orders!”

She turned to Captain Walker.

“What are the chances, sir, that the navy can use me?” 

He hesitated slightly, glancing at Mrs. Blackett’s suddenly stricken face.

“We’ll have a long talk about it over the next few days.” He promised then turned back to Mrs. Blackett.

“Thank you very much for your kind offer.” He said, ”I’ll discuss it with Mary, but I’m sure we will want to accept, at least in part. Mary may be needed for war- work elsewhere of course, but I’m sure she if she can find a job that needs doing in this area she would prefer it.”

A silence fell, broken by the chiming of the clock. Peggy took that as the signal to start collecting the dishes and carry them down to the kitchen. The other two girls helped her and chatted to Mrs Braithwaite whilst they helped her with the washing up.

The Walker girls were just climbing into bed when Peggy tapped at the door.

“I say,” she said, “if there is a war, please try to be evacuated here if you can, Bridget. I’d like mother to have company, if I go away. It’s not a bad place to grow up, you know. Mother and Cooky won’t be unfair about chores and things like that. Some of the people I overhear in the post office – well, I think one or two of them are thinking in terms of getting a cheap labourer. Not most people of course; most people intend to do their best or they haven’t got room anyway. And you’d write to us, wouldn’t you, if there was something we ought to know?”

“Of course,” agreed Bridget cheerfully. “Do you think they would stop school for the duration of the war?”

“Probably not” admitted Peggy, “but maybe you’d finish sooner or something.”

“I expect we’d learn different things.” said Bridget hopefully. “I can’t see the good of French verbs and Latin in a war.”

“We’d need French,” said Titty, “They’d be our allies”

“Well. Latin then, I don’t see the point of that. Unless you used it as a code or something, and Hitler would have enough people who could read Latin, so that would be no good.”

“I don’t want to pry if I’m not meant to” said Peggy carefully, in the tone of one who does mean to pry. “But I get the impression that we’re being discretely tested.”

“I get that all the time” said Bridget with a sigh.

“But especially right now?” Peggy asked. 

“Yes,” said Titty, “and it’s all of us, not just you. But when Daddy is up to something, and he is, I’m sure of that, there’s no use at all in trying to get it out of him before he’s ready.”

Peggy nodded.

“We’ll see what we see.” she said. “My feet are freezing; I’m off to bed.”

* * *

 

It was tactful of Daddy, Titty thought, to take Bridget off on a walk to the High Tops directly after breakfast. She was however quite certain that he had not chosen the destination on a whim. She and Peggy sailed Amazon across to meet Nancy, whose train was due to arrive shortly after eleven. The train was early and they arrived to find Nancy chatting to old Bob beside a gently steaming locomotive, with her suitcase in her hand. Titty always felt slightly startled to find herself as tall as Nancy, although this had been the case for the past three years. Somehow Nancy still had a personality so big that she seemed taller in your memory that in real life.

“Oh, it’s wonderful to be shivering timbers whenever I feel like it.” said Nancy. “If I do, the girls all look at me and ask what I mean and then spend the next quarter of an hour trying to whisper about it and learning half of what they might have learned. Do we have to be back for lunch? Is that sandwiches I see?”

“No, it’s a beef-roll for Uncle Jim. We’re to collect him and bring him to Beckfoot for lunch. Captain Walker wants to see him again.”

They had to tack to reach houseboat bay and found the erstwhile Captain Flint smoking a pipe on the deck with a small suitcase at his feet. He had lost weight since last year, Titty thought. It was still a tight squeeze in little Amazon, although all of the young women were slim and both the suitcases were small. It was just as well, she thought, that they were running before the wind.   

Peggy was steering, but the other two looked on in astonishment as the beef-roll was shredded and the pieces were dropped over-board.  Nancy remonstrated with her uncle.

“Already the school marm,” he replied. “I won’t be back for a while; I don’t want to take it with me on the train, because I would only eat it and I don’t want to hurt Cook’s feelings.”

“I don’t understand this obsession with losing weight” Peggy said. “I would just about believe it if Nancy was here nagging you about improving your condition all the time, but she isn’t. You don’t see her from one school holidays to the next.”

“And it’s not as if I have been nagging.” said Nancy, “not even by letter. Is it something the doctor said?”  

“Only indirectly.” Her uncle said, “As for condition, I haven’t needed to bother about it, not really, for twenty years.”

“You’re getting ready for war.” said Nancy flatly.

Her uncle hesitated, and then nodded curtly.

“But” said Titty, “wouldn’t food be harder to get during a war?”

He laughed, “It may come sooner rather than later, but not so soon that that beef-roll will be any use.”

“When it does come to a war,” said Peggy, “won’t you be too old for the army anyway?”

“Too old for conscription” he agreed. “Maybe not too old for the army altogether, though.  This might turn out to be an altogether different sort of war, just as the last one was different from what went before.”   

* * *

 

“Now,” said Captain Walker, as they were all sitting down to cottage pie. “I hate to spoil your enjoyment of an excellent meal, but Jim has a train to catch and I have a proposition to put to you. It concerns some of you more than others, but before I proceed any further, I must ask you all to promise absolute secrecy, whether you take up this suggestion or not. You may talk to your mother about this, Bridget, but not to anyone else.”

“What about Susan?” asked Bridget.

“Susan already knows about it.” replied her father. “Roger will know within the next few days, but leave it to me to tell him.” 

 The girls promised eagerly. Molly promised with a sigh and Captain Flint simply said “Of course”.  He alone appeared unsurprised.

“As you have probably worked out,” said Captain Walker, “We may well be at war with Germany within the new few years. Quite what will happen in the Baltic politically we can’t be sure. However, whatever happens, it is important that the admiralty have the most up to date charts possible. It would be helpful to have as much other information as we can get, but the charts are, for this operation, the important thing. It would be helpful, for various reasons, if we could update the charts without the Royal Navy being seen to do so.”

They nodded.

“Therefore certain individuals and groups have been approached to carry out the task. The Baltic will become a little more fashionable with amateur sailors this summer. We need people who have experience with sailing, who can be there in a way that looks natural, whom we trust completely and ideally who have at least some experience in surveying.”

There was a short pause.

“We’ve got everything you need, except a ship.” said Nancy.

 “Most of the people who are going will be providing their own boats of course.” admitted Captain Walker. “but we also have a few people who can provide the boat but not the crew – or at least not a whole crew.”

“Are we all doing this?” asked Titty, “I mean all the Swallows and Amazons? And what about the D’s, are they in it too?”

“Most probably,” her father said, “but not all of you together. I know you write to Dorothea, Titty, but this is not to be mentioned in letters at all. Peggy, if you mention this at all to Susan, it must only be in terms of the cover story, please – the holiday cruise you are going on. And keep other names out of it. No diaries either, Titty, they have been known to fall into the wrong hands.”

He turned to Mrs. Blackett.

“I am very, very sorry to spring this on you like this. I can tell you that the risks are no more than those of a summer sailing cruise. They will be asked to pass on information about things they notice, and of course to help with the surveying, but no more than that. They will not be undertaking any active, er.. spying. I do hope you can give permission for Peggy to join us.”

“What about me?” Nancy asked hastily.

“You’re twenty-one now, Nancy.” Her mother reminded her, sadly.

“Count me in!” announce Nancy cheerfully. “How soon do we start?”

“You, Susan and John start sooner than most. You will officially start with mumps in four weeks’ time and will have it badly. You probably caught it from your friend’s little sister, who was looking a bit peaky at the end of the holidays, but you thought it was just a chill. The college people think you are at Beckfoot, people here think you are at college. I’ve spoken to the doctor and he will provide you with the certificate. I had to give him my word for honour that this was on behalf of the admiralty and not ‘some madcap scheme’ you had thought up for yourself.” He eyed Nancy speculatively and she felt herself starting to blush.

“I’m a lot more sensible now.” She said hastily, “but what about my certificate? I’ve several more weeks of practice still to go.”

“And why can’t I start mumps right now? And not have any summer term at all?” asked Bridget.

“If you “start mumps” now Bridgie, Nancy won’t be able to go back at all for the summer term. She’ll be allowed to miss a two months for illness, maximum. Anymore, and she would have to repeat the whole year to qualify.  I trust you are up to date with dissertations and essays and so forth.”

Nancy grinned. “Slightly ahead actually”

Her family looked at her curiously.

“Well I wasn’t going to let them spoil these holidays.” she said. “The only problem is that I had to fill in a health form when I started, so they know I’ve had mumps. People don’t often have it twice.”

“We’ll think of something. Ask the doctor.” Captain Walker said, “I’m more concerned with how we get Peggy out of that post-office. You can’t be ill too, people would know you weren’t at Beckfoot.  We’ll find a way somehow, Peggy, but let’s see if your mother will let you go first.” He stood up, “In fact, if Jim doesn’t go and catch his train now he’ll miss it. If you’ll trust me with your motor launch, Molly, I’ll run him across now.”

“The launch?” said Mrs Blackett, “of, yes, fine, of course.”

“Bridget and Titty, you were wanting a nice long walk this afternoon, weren’t you?” was their father’s parting shot as he hurried out after Captain Flint. 

* * *

 

“Look here, Ted,” said Jim as they crossed the lake. “I’d like to get involved with this Baltic caper, but I’ve been called up to London and they may be sending me off in quite another direction. I’ve been doing bits and pieces on and off since……well quite a long time. My cover has the merit of being the truth, nearly.  I’m not quite the idle fellow I would appear - for all the occupation on my passport says “gentleman.””

“Which passport?” murmured Ted.

Jim said nothing, but grinned.

“I take it that Molly and the girls have no idea?”

“Not so far. Assuming I’ve been as careful as I think I have.  I have the impression it comes as no surprise to you. Have I been careless?”

“John admires you, has done since that second summer when he sunk the _Swallow._  He hasn’t much time for slackers. Therefore you are unlikely to be a slacker. I met your friend Ransome in the village. He’s nobody’s fool.  He seemed to feel quite definitely that you were safe to be approached.  I suppose that’s why you’ve been losing all that weight?”

“Yes, it’s the glance from a distance that gives the show away. People are used to seeing a fat, bald chap so that’s all they see. However, I can give you Mac’s address. He may well be willing to lend you the “Sea –Bear” if he comes as part of the deal. He’s completely sound, although I expect you’ll want to see him yourself. ”

 “Thank –you. We’re nearly here. Better change subjects.”

The two middle-aged men were deep in a discussion about fishing while they walked up from the landing stage to the station. A pity, said Sammy the police sergeant, when he told his mother about it, that Mr Turner’s publisher should call him up to London just when his friend had come to join him in a bit of fishing.

* * *

 

   


	2. Chapter 2

** Late May 1938 **

The handsome young naval officer seen entering Matron’s office caused quite a stir amongst the student nurses attached to ward 23.  It was generally agreed that he appeared pleasant as well as handsome. Only student nurse Walker made no comment, and although it was generally agreed that Susan was a pleasant companion, she was also considered “as unromantic as brick, with no imagination or sense of adventure.” Even when this opinion was voiced to her face, she had agreed placidly and appeared to take no offence. She was also the most sensible and diligent student in her cohort, so when she was summoned to Matron’s office everyone was surprised.

It was quite some time before she returned to the ward and spoke to Sister in a low murmur, before heading off to the cloak room. Joan slipped away to follow her.

“They need me to go home. You know my brother’s in the navy, don’t you?  They told Matron that they would probably need me for a few months. It’s not a case of really severe illness, but they need my help. I’m to go back to the hostel to pack my bags and get the train.”

“You will introduce me to your brother when you get back, won’t you?” asked Joan.

Slightly startled, Susan agreed before slipping away, pleased that she had not actually uttered a lie.

* * *

 

****

They met in a tea-shop in Cambridge. It was every bit as crowded as Dick had told him it would be. John decided to postpone any discussion until after they had had tea. A walk around a park would be safer, and wouldn’t appear odd. He remembered being told in his briefing, “In most people’s minds, a young man taking a young woman for a meal or a walk requires no other explanation than the obvious one. Make the gestures friendly, affectionate even, and you can talk as confidentially as you like. Just remember that anyone who is in the game, so to speak, will still be trying to listen in when they can.” He felt his cheek burn at the thought, felt guilty for blushing and then reminded himself that occasional blushing would be quite typical in the role he was playing today. He just hoped Nancy caught on quickly.

“Is there anywhere we can go for a walk, maybe a park or somewhere, before we catch the train?” He asked, whilst trying to catch the waitress’s eye for the bill and fend off Nancy’s attempt to give him the money for her share.

“There is a bit of grass called Parker’s piece.” she said. “I found it on the way up from the station with Dot.   She’s got the letter from me and the letter from the doctor to post tomorrow. I’m sorry she couldn’t wait to meet you, but they take this “no more than 4 miles from Carfax tower thing” very seriously. Dot knows a chap in one of the men’s colleges who got in fearful hot water for visiting his brother in Cambridge, so she wasn’t about to take the risk, and got permission very properly.” Nancy paused while he paid their bill.

 “Are all the letters sorted out?” he ask, he held her light summer coat for her to put on.  Somehow, he had expected her to be awkward in accepting his proffered arm, but she accepted it with dignity and poise.  Probably used to it all the time in London, he thought ruefully.  It was drizzling as they left the tea-shop.

“Yes, one from the doctor, a quick note from me and a letter from her, just saying that she has arranged for me to go home until I’m out of quarantine.”

“It seems quite complicated.”

“I couldn’t just trot off to the station when I’m supposed to have measles. I might walk into anybody. Stations are like that.”

By the time they reached Parker’s piece, it had begun to rain seriously. With the umbrella up, John felt quite comfortable explaining the plans to Nancy.

“One thing I need to tell you,” he said quite seriously, “is that, while most of what we are doing is just checking charts, and most of the yachts are doing only that, one or two of them might, and only might, be asked to carry messages back to England.  It won’t be spying,” he desperately hoped what he was saying was true, “and I hope we won’t have to do it anyway.”

“I take it it’s probably information from St. Petersburg taken to Helsinki or Tallinn.  Messages from someone in Germany sent to somewhere in Denmark or Poland, for us to pick up?” Nancy asked thoughtfully.

“Almost certainly.”

“Then we won’t be spying on the countries in which we are guests.” she told him cheerfully, “You can cheer up and stop worrying that you’re doing something wrong.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“Maybe someone who didn’t know you might not be able to tell. Thank you for telling me.”

“I wasn’t meant to, but I thought you might notice that something was up.”

“Does that mean you aren’t telling Jim and Susan on Goblin?” she asked.

“Jim knows the admiralty would be much obliged to him if he listened carefully to my suggestions about which ports to call at. He says he doesn’t want to know any more. Susan knows what I’ve told you. Father says I’m on no account to involve her in that aspect of things.”

“I won’t muddy the waters.” she promised. “If you want me to go somewhere or do something to provide a decoy, just ask and I’ll ask no questions. We’re already playing the game now, aren’t we?”

“Yes, although it’s more to get into good habits than anything else. How can you tell?”

“You don’t usually offer me your arm. You would have let me pay my share of the bill. Tell me the rest of what we’re doing next. We haven’t got that much time here.”

“We go to Felixstowe,” he explained, “and join Jim Brading and the _Goblin_ there. _Goblin_ sleeps four. Susan will already be there.  Jim hasn’t done any surveying before so we’ll be the main survey team, he’ll concentrate on the sailing. We should pass muster as just a group of good friends.”

“John” and he could just hear the laughter below her words, like an underground stream, “That is because we are good friends.” She squeezed his arm gently and he knew without looking that her eyes were dancing.

“I’ve got your passport in my pocket, with all the right visas.” he said, “one thing though - we had better try to call you Ruth, at least where there are others about.”

She lifted an eyebrow.

“If people think you are travelling under an assumed identity, they will look more closely. We would prefer them not to. It’s more of a problem if they check up on us and find I am a naval officer. My passport says I’m a student. I’m at Leeds University if anyone asks, but I hope they don’t.”

“Have you ever even been to Leeds?”

“I had a look round this morning on the way back from shifting _Sea-Bear to_ Arbroath.  I chose it because I’ve a friend who was at Leeds and got him to talk me through it pretty thoroughly. I manage to borrow a phrase book and some dictionaries as well, there. You can just be yourself.” He grinned “You will be anyway; you can’t help it.”

“Now am I to take that as an insult or a compliment?” she asked.

“Compliment,” he replied, “unless you find it otherwise of course.”

Their eyes met.  Hers were dancing again. He knew he was wearing a broad smile. He wondered what would happen if he kissed her.

“We’d better get stir our stumps if we are going to catch that train.” said Nancy.


	3. Aboard Goblin

  

** Aboard the _Goblin_ **

“We may as well eat fresh stuff while we can.” said Susan, organising her purchases on the nearest bunk (John’s).

“Now these,” she pointed to one group, “are non-food and need to be stored separately. The disinfectant especially, or it will taint everything.”

Jim picked up another bottle. It was cough linctus. Next to it was bottle of asprin. There was a small packet of pods next to it and pink emulsion in a bottle.

“Are these vanilla pods?” he asked.

“Senna.” She replied. “Vanilla pods are long and thin. I’m hoping we won’t need any of this stuff. I didn’t like the idea or trying to buying medicines in Finnish, however.”

“Well, it’s a comfort to have a nurse on hand.”

“Student nurse.”

“Shall you like it, do you think? Nursing?” he asked.

“That’s a strange question – I’ve stuck it out for nearly three years and yes, overall I really rather enjoy it. Most people who find it isn’t for them give up early. A few struggle with examinations, the anatomy and so forth, of course, but there’s general a role for them somewhere, even if they don’t pass their SRN.”

“But it is hard work, isn’t it? And you’re always at someone’s beck and call.”

“I think in most jobs you start out like that. And a ward sister has a great deal of responsibility.” she replied.

“I’m sure you would be a brilliant ward sister – but wouldn’t it take a great many years to get to that point, and even then you have to be there at a set time and work long hours?”

Susan laughed “Of course, it would. It’s a job worth doing so, yes it does. A naval officer works long hours and so do most doctors. I am sure accountants do too.”

“Well yes,” he admitted, “but it seems as though it ought to be different for women.”

“I really don’t see why.” Susan said firmly. “I’m quite content with nursing, but I’m happy to be sailing again. I’d like to start a stew, with lots of vegetables, so it will be ready for the others whenever they arrive. I’m going up on deck to chop the onions.”

 

* * *

 

Susan had said “It doesn’t matter when they arrive now; the stew is ready to eat.” about five minutes before _Goblin_ was hailed from the shore. Jim almost failed to recognise the tall, broad-shouldered young man standing on the hard. Susan was slender and not above average height, so he had not expected John to have become either tall or broad. It was seven years since he had last seen John.  He had visited the rest of the family in Shotley and later in Portsmouth, but by that time John had been away training and later at sea. The young woman next to John had a pleasant, vivacious face, but he thought her rather plain compared to Susan. She looked sturdy where Susan looked delicate. She was clearly used to boats however and got herself onto _Goblin_ very neatly. Both, he noticed, asked his permission to come abroad.

* * *

 

When they had finished the stew, which Susan had served with fresh bread, Jim got the charts out and John produced a map of northern Europe. They spread them on the table with the map on top.

“We really haven’t got a lot of time.” John explained. “We want to spend as little of it as possible just sailing.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say that, John” said Jim.

John gave a brief, humourless smile.

“We could save 250 miles – nautical miles that is, going through the Kiel Canal, but now that it’s in German hands it’s closed to us.”   He continued. “So really, it is up to the skipper where he heads for across the North Sea. Then we follow the coast around to Copenhagen and then to Stockholm, before we cross to Helsinki or Tallinn.”

“Stockholm is one of those fixed points we have to visit then?” asked Jim.

“It is, sir. Not least because we shall want to know of any problems that might have arisen before we run into them ourselves. Mail planes can get from London to Stockholm overnight.”

“If we want to cut our journey time as short as possible, I suppose we should head straight for Denmark.” said Susan. “The wind is a south westerly at the moment.”

“If I could be sure we could keep the wind, I would agree.” Said Jim, “but if it drops and we have to use the engine, I would like us to have better access to petrol. I think we’d be better crossing to Haarlem or thereabouts and skirting up the coast.”

There was a chorus of “Aye-aye sirs”, and John folded up the map, so they could see the charts underneath.

“Well, Skipper”, said Nancy, “better show us what you want us to do tomorrow. Bear in mind its several years since I’ve had to read a chart.”

Jim had given the novelty of actually having a crew some serious thought.

“First of all,” he said “Watches. On such a small ship some things may be better done with all four of us on deck. When we are at anchor, only one of us needs be on watch. When we are surveying, I’ll be concentrating on the ship and you’ll all be surveying. Under those circumstances we won’t be sailing at night anyway.” He wondered why Susan and John gave a faint but recognisable twitch. “However, for the times when it is suitable, we’ll have two watches. Susan is with me. Nancy is in John’s watch.”

“I suppose we’d like Susan to do the cooking.” put in John.

“I’ll do my share.” said Nancy, “it’s not fair to ask Susan to do it all. I’m not as good as Peggy or Susan, but I do manage on my little gas ring in my digs. Susan’s seen me do it. Admittedly, I had to borrow a shilling half-way through and my landlady kept coming in with medical problems.”

“Why did you tell her Susan was a nurse?” asked Jim, “Or was she in uniform?”

“Student nurse.” said Susan.

“I’m only allowed respectable visitors.” Nancy said solemnly. “It’s almost like living with Aunt Maria. When we want to meet each other, we go to a corner-house now.”

“We’ll make an early start tomorrow.” said Jim. “Dawn is about half-past four so and high tide is at five. I’d like to be sailing by five at the absolute latest.”

“I’ll set my alarm.” said Susan, “Bread and butter and jam for breakfast. We may as well while it’s fresh.”

“It will sit well if anything does.” said John.

“This will be the last night when we can all sleep until we get back in July.” said Jim, “So let’s make the most of it.”

* * *

 

They went to bed by nine o’clock and lay in silence, but no one went to sleep easily.

Susan was running through a check-list in her mind: things she should have done (and had), things she had to do tomorrow, the list she had prepared for the medical box in _Sea-Bear_. All was in hand. Susan slept.

* * *

 

Jim was running through the plan for tomorrow in his mind. He remembered Titty at Shotley, announcing that she was going to post her letters to “Captain Nancy and Captain John”. On a later visit to Portsmouth he had smiled to hear Bridget address “Captain Susan” and thought it a pleasant and childish conceit. Now, he was beginning to recognise the truth behind the childish titles. His suggestions had been greeted with a prompt “Aye, aye sir” and they had called him skipper. He only hoped he could live up to their standards. There was some piece of poetry describing someone as captain of their fate, but he could not remember the rest of it or whether the context was even vaguely appropriate. Still searching his memory, he drifted to sleep.

* * *

 

It was almost worth staying awake to enjoy a bunk instead of a hammock, John thought. He closed his eyes and smiled, remembering the feel of Nancy’s hand on his arm through his sleeve, and her shoulder pressed against his in the crowded railway carriage. At some point on this voyage he would find a way to tell her how he felt about her.  He imagined this so well that he could almost feel the softness of her cheek and then her lips as he kissed her. John fell blissfully asleep.   

* * *

 

Nancy Blackett, Terror of the Seas waited until Susan’s breathing deepened into sleep before letting silent tears soak into her pillow.  She had wondered if being aboard _Goblin_ would trigger off John’s nightmares in the way that the first nights on the Sea Bear had. The thought of John unhappy was somehow as unbearable as the times when the great aunt had made her mother cry. She was a donkey to cry though. Eventually she slept.

* * *

 

Somehow, Jim had expected his crew to be slow to get ready in the morning. As it was, Susan had the kettle on by quarter past four and had made a pot of tea and was preparing a thermos flask of tea and was heating some soup to go in another flask by half past four. Nancy had cut and buttered two pieces of bread for each of them, sandwiching each person’s pieces together, to prevent them falling butter-side down. She had also made ham sandwiches, placing them between two enamel plates. The plate had rather deep rims, but she had still had to use all four plates to accommodate all the sandwiches. She tied the plates together with string and wedged them under the mattress of John’s bunk. John himself had arranged the charts on the table in the order in which they were likely to be used. The charts were held on the table with an arrangement of elastic, which Jim had never seen before.

“Peggy, my sister made it. Fiddling with knots in the dark or if you’re sea-sick is no fun.” said Nancy, as she saw Jim examine it. Jim nodded, his mouth full of bread and butter, and went up to join John on the deck. Susan passed up two mugs of tea and scrambled up after them. Nancy passed two mugs up to her, and the four of them drank their tea on deck, where it cooled quickly in the breeze which was, as Jim said, “exactly as fresh as we want it and no more”.

By twenty to five the mainsail and jib were up;  it didn’t seem long until they were passing Beach End buoy; and  with the ebb tide to help them it seemed, at least, no time at all until the Cork light ship had been checked off on the chart. Once they were out into comparatively safe waters, Jim had them hoist the stay sail and _Goblin_ flew along even faster in the bright sunshine.

“John,” Jim said, “I don’t know what we’ll run into later on, but she’ll do well enough for now. Your watch had better get some rest, at least until dinnertime.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Aye, sir.”  Nancy said promptly, but her expression was a little dubious. She was coping well enough up in the cockpit with the wind in her face, but she couldn’t say, either, that she was feeling altogether herself. Susan caught her look.

“Give it a try, Nancy,” she said. “Go straight to your bunk, lie down and close your eyes.”

Nancy took a deep breath, scrambled down the companion way and did as she was advised. She had a bad moment untying the laces of her gym shoes and was glad to close her eyes. John had to remove the enamel plates from under his bunk and push them under Jim’s before he lay down in it. He had far too much experience to think that anyone was ever totally safe from sea-sickness, but he had spent more time on the sea than off it in the last couple of years. He had also learned to take any chance for sleep which was offered. He roused brief when Jim changed the charts and again, more fully, when he heard the words “sandwiches” mentioned.

“Under Jim’s bunk” he said and he pushed on his shoes and fished under the mattress for the plates. Jim was steering so he passed them up to Susan.

“We may ask well leave the soup until later,” she remarked, “but pass up the thermos with the tea, and the mugs.”

“We certainly want to make the most of this weather, and this wind.” Said Jim as Nancy followed John up the companion way.

After they had eaten the sandwiches, Susan and Jim went down to lie on their bunks. They slept for the best part of five hours, and when they woke up the breeze was moderating slightly and had backed somewhat to the south.  They had the soup, which was certainly still warm, although not exactly hot. They finished of the rest of the first loaf of bread with it. Susan steered and Nancy kept look out while John and Jim went below and looked at the charts.

 “Still too much wind for much mist.” said John

“The problem with going into a port is being able to get out again.” said Jim. “We’ve still got a full tank and a spare can of petrol. After all, we aren’t intending to go to Holland. And I was definitely intending to stay outside the West Frisian Islands.” He looked at John.

“She’s your ship and it’s your decision, sir.” John said. “It’s a pity to waste good weather.”

“You know how I feel about shoals.”

John grinned in reply.

* * *

 

 

 

** Letters about nothing much **

Dear Peggy,

This is a short letter as nothing much has happened. We have had ideal weather with moderate winds, hardly any mist and only one wet day. I’m in John’s watch, Susan is in Jim’s. My cooking isn’t up your standard, but they’re all very polite and no-one complains. We had the most wind on the first day and crossed the North Sea pretty briskly and have been sailing past the Frisian Islands. John has been very good about washing –up and Jim has followed suit. We’ll post this when we get to port – which will probably be in southern Denmark. 

Lots of Love to all.

 Nancy

* * *

 

 

Dear Peggy,

We aren’t sure about maximum weights for letters, so I am sharing this sheet with Nancy. We have mostly had clear skies and the most favourable winds we could ask for. We will have to come into port for drinking water soon although we have been very careful.  Dorothea gave Nancy some books “to read on the journey”. Our holiday has been so relaxing that Jim and John have had plenty of time to read, but of course didn’t bring anything of their own. It’s quite amusing to watch them read Georgette Heyer and admit that they’re “not as bad they expected”. Jim reads faster than John and has finished his. He is trying to conceal his impatience while waiting for John to finish so they can swop. I offered him my Agatha Christie, but he is still keeping an eye on John’s progress. I am reading Nancy’s physiology textbook and she is reading mine. John wasn’t allowed to bring his textbooks and it is making him twitchy when he sees us swotting.  Love from Susan.

 

* * *

 

 

Dear Dorothea,

Thank –you so much for all you did to help my holiday start smoothly. It was great seeing both you and Dick. The books you lent are being very much appreciated, especially by Jim and John. Susan and I will doubtless get our turn eventually. We haven’t called at any port so far, making the best of the favourable wind. We are currently crossing the Heligoland Bight, which is a wonderful name and sounds it should be in a novel. Everything is going so well. John and Susan send their best of course.

Love Nancy.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dear Mother and Father,

We are having a lovely relaxing holiday. I have to admit it is rather nice being the youngest for once, if only for the extra hour or two of sleep here and there.   Nancy is doing at least half the cooking, and would do more if I let her. John and Jim are being very helpful about washing up etc.  It’s lovely not to be on my feet all day!

Much love to Titty, Roger and Bridget too,

Love from Susan (and John)

 

 

* * *

 

Dear Uncle Bob,

_Goblin_ is having wonderful time and so am I.  I have a wonderful crew. You remember me telling you about the Walkers, when _Goblin_ dragged her anchor and drifted out to sea when I concussed myself on the bus? Captain and Mrs Walker must be so proud of them. Susan is a nurse. She is also a very competent sailor and is now a very pretty young lady. I’m learning a lot by just watching how John goes about things, to be honest. Their friend is also very competent and pleasant. I have the odd feeling that she is on her best behaviour and she does have some rather quaint turns of phrase. I gather she is training to be a games mistress and I could just see her on a hockey pitch. She and John have rather made up their minds that Susan deserves a bit of spoiling and I must say I agree with them – nursing must be awfully hard work. It’s a pity she feels she has to do it – although I’m sure the training will be useful later on.

Sorry you’re not with us. Jim


	4. Stockholm

A young man with a couple of petrol cans is liable to make himself conspicuous on a fashionable shopping street. John had anticipated this, and deposited them at the garage at which he proposed to buy the petrol later. He bought a street map from a newsstand and decided that a bus would, after all, be best. It was past ten o’clock and there were enough people about to make his movements inconspicuous as he entered the shop. He made his way upstairs and went to the counter selling dolls.

“I’m looking for a birthday present for my sister.” He said, hoping English really would be fine.

The assistant, a girl who looked about Titty’s age, held up a placating hand and went through a small door at the back of the shop. A few moments later a middle aged woman appeared.

“You want a doll?” she asked.

“Yes, it’s a birthday present for my sister.”

“What is your sister’s name?”

“Doreen.”

“What colour does she like best?”

“Green.” Bridget loathed green, which had been the colour of her summer school uniform dress in Shotley.

“How old is she?”

“Seven.”

“You are obviously from England. I think I should see your passport before serving you. It is the customs you understand.”

John showed his passport as inconspicuously as he could manage.

The woman smiled. “Very good. I think this doll would suit your sister very well. See, I have it already wrapped here.”

The price she named was equal to his pay for a fortnight. He paid it without blinking and put the doll in the inside pocket of his jacket, which he kept fastened. He said goodbye pleasantly, left the shop and made his way to the post-office. Writing straight to his father was probably as safe as any other way. A letter would safer than a postcard. Perhaps he would have a cup of coffee while he wrote, he thought, and started to look out for a café. The first he saw was sparsely patronised - only a couple of women in expensive-looking hats sat at the tables, which were well-spaced out. Almost certainly expensive, he decided. The second was three-quarters full and most of the customers looked as though they worked in the surrounding offices. It would do. Once he had eaten, he fished a piece of paper and envelope out of his outside pocket. It looked rather crumpled, but would still be better than a postcard.

Dear Dad (and Mother if she has not set off on her holiday yet),

I have bought a doll for Bridget’s birthday and thought you would like to know. After all, she will not want the same thing from all of us. I followed Dad’s suggestion about where to buy it and am pleased to say the price is just what I was told it would be. I will wait until later to examine the present more carefully. Susan and Nancy have gone to buy stores. Jim is much relieved now we are not in the North Sea and asked to be remembered to you both. All being well, we sail for Helsinki tomorrow.

 Much love, John.

 

The cakes tasted of marzipan, which he wasn’t that fond of, although he remembered that both Susan and Nancy liked it. While he was drinking his coffee he saw a number of people come and buy cakes from the counter, so he bought a box of assorted cakes, pointing them out to the assistant through the glass panel in the counter. During the bus ride back he decided to go straight back to the _Goblin_ and examine his parcel before going and fetching the petrol. They had used a little coming into Stockholm with tide and wind against them, although they had conscientiously topped up supplies in Copenhagen after using the engine in the Kattegat. John was glad that he had had the chance to sail thorough the Kattegat himself and in good conditions. It might easily be the most important strategic stretch of water for its size, although the English Channel, the Panama Canal, the Suez Canal and the Straits of Gibraltar were also contenders. He pictured himself keeping a note-book like Dick’s, and writing down all the strategic waterways he had traversed. His musings on this carried him back to the bus stop and then to the harbour.

He smiled to see Jim busy with polish and rag at the brass work. He wondered if Jim would be doing it, if Susan would not be back shortly to appreciate the effect. Down in the cabin, he found Susan’s sewing scissors at started dismantling the doll. The message looked a lengthy one. He went into the cockpit.

“Jim, I may be some time on this. It’s one of those things only I can do. I left those cans at the garage the harbour- master’s office recommended, but I didn’t ask when it closed. Did the girls say when they would be back?”

“Soon, I think” said Jim. “Do you want me to fetch the petrol?”

“I’d rather have you here, I think if you don’t mind. I’d hate someone to get close enough to the portholes to see what I’m up to.”

Jim had finished the polishing, put the kettle on and had just resigned himself to tinned soup and crackers for lunch, when Susan and Nancy arrived with damp hair. Nancy in particular was looking very pleased with herself.

“Did you have any trouble?” Jim asked, eying them uncertainly.

“Not trouble, but we have had hot baths.” replied Nancy, handing up loaves of bread, some bacon and some fish.   

“Nancy just walked into a hotel and asked.” said Susan, waiting her turn with a string bag full of fruit and vegetables and a dozen eggs.

“Well, I did offer to pay.” said Nancy, “I thought they gave us was a very reasonable price, considering they lent us the towels and soap. We could look after the Goblin while you both go along to the same hotel. Maybe you should leave it until after dinner.”

“But not too late.” suggested Susan. “Go before this evening’s new guests turn up.”

Half an hour later, the four of them were sitting around the cabin table, eating fried fish, fried potatoes and fresh peas and finishing the meal with apples and the cakes John had brought. It seemed strange to eat together at a table, although they had often eaten together in the cockpit or perched on the companion way to keep the helmsman (or woman) and look-out company.  No-one appeared to notice that John was unusually quiet.  

 Jim was duly dispatched to the accommodating hotel with a bundle containing fresh clothes and, it has to be admitted, also with a great deal of embarrassment. Nancy departed at the same time to fetch the full petrol cans and Susan settled down to clean the galley really well. She had finished and was starting to plan the meals for the next week when Nancy returned. John paused in his decoding for long enough to help with the petrol cans, but scarcely noticed when, after a whispered discussion, Nancy set off for the shore again. He had nearly finished the decoding. He was dimly aware of Nancy returning and of Susan heating some water. He made a brief note of the times and places specified without any other detail, and got up to burn the original message and the stages in the decoding. Both girls looked at him with questioningly.

“Spit it out, Commodore.” advised Nancy.

“We do have to go to Tallinn first and pick up some information from a gentleman who will be called Reginald Cavendish.  I have to take one of you to dinner at a specified restaurant, buy  roses from the rose seller and will either be joined by an old friend at the table or receive a message. If we miss the rendezvous there will be another week later in Helsinki.”

“Who will you take to the rendezvous?” asked Susan.

“Well not Jim, obviously, given the roses.” said Nancy.

“He wouldn’t be happy leaving the Goblin, anyway.” said Susan, “Not without John aboard.”

“A mate with a master’s ticket in his pocket” John quoted softly. There was a long silence. 

“Does it still bother you?” he asked his sister.

Susan shook her head. “I thought I would never stop worrying about it just afterwards, but then we were so busy with the survey that by the time we had got back to school, I had…. Not forgotten, but didn’t think about it unless something reminded me. What about you?”

“Pretty much the same, I thought, until we were on the _Sea Bear._ Then I had nightmares, until something stopped them. I was never sure quite what started them or stopped them.” He paused. “Anyway, I am under strict instructions to keep Susan out of any err….”

“Intelligence gathering.” supplied Nancy helpfully.

“So Nancy, if you wouldn’t mind? May I invite you to dinner on Wednesday?”

“I’d be delighted.”

“If it’s Wednesday, I take it we don’t have to leave here tonight?” asked Susan.

“Not unless Jim wants.”

“He will want daylight. Anyone would.” Susan replied rather hastily as the kettle and saucepan both started to boil. “Better get that bucket, Nancy, I’ll get those books.”

Susan poured the hot water into the bucket, which contained cold water, and presented John with a small bar of soap and the bucket. Both girls grinned at him.

“Your bath.” Susan explained. “It seemed a bit mean to leave you with salt-water, when we’ve all had fresh. We’ll go up on deck, but pass the bucket out when you’ve finished with it. I’ve got plans for that water.”

They retreated decorously to the deck, closing the companionway door behind them, each clutching a novel in her hand. John smiled as he undressed and found his flannel and towel. They were quite right; it was a treat.

 Even if the soap did smell of Lily of the Valley.


	5. Arriving in Tallinn

The two nights in moored in Stockholm had done his crew a great deal of good, Jim decided. Everyone had had one unbroken night’s sleep. Everyone had had a chance to stretch their legs ashore. Some clothes had been washed in fresh water. The crew had washed in fresh water. They had plenty of food, water and petrol aboard and the wind was, if a little weaker than he wanted, quite usable. April and May supposedly had the weakest winds in the Baltic and they were now at the start of June. They had been extremely lucky too, to have had no fog worth speaking of. If the wind continued playing it’s variations on Westerly, they would find themselves with a slow passage home.  That possibility was weeks away. Jim was glad to be clear of Stockholm and the islands around it and was expecting to reach Tallinn late the next day. That would give them a day to see to the ship, and then John and Nancy would head off to their spy work. He was rather looking forward to an evening alone with Susan. He was coming to appreciate her ingenuity as well as her undoubted competence and  a delicate features. Susan and John were constructing an elaborate system of ropes to keep drying washing on board without getting in the way of the sails.

 Nancy was on look out.

“A plane.”

John looked up, checked his wristwatch and bobbed below to make a note of the information.

“There’s a service from Tallinn to Stockholm and from Tallinn to Helsinki.” he commented. “We could send a letter from Tallinn and it would probably arrive in London within a day now.”

“How safely?” Jim replied

“There’s the rub.” John agreed.

* * *

 

The wind continued to get lighter, and the next day it became obvious they were not going to reach Tallinn in daylight. Jim had absolutely no intention of arriving in a strange harbour at night and was not going to hurry them by using the engine. At dawn the day after  they barely had the wind to steer. By six in the morning, Jim ordered all hands on deck to lower sail and they used the engine to reach Tallinn.  For the first time that voyage they had to moor alongside jetty. There was a considerable delay after they had raised the “Q” flag before a customs officer boarded and an even longer delay while Jim visited the harbour office.  Jim returned and told them that they would  that they would be expected to moor stern first in a different berth. Since they had been towing _Imp,_ this involved Nancy rowing _Imp_ out of the way and tying her up before returning to _Goblin._ They then had to reverse in with the engine at its lowest setting, dropping the anchor at exactly the right point and with the right amount of cable. Once the anchor was laid, Jim then had to turn stern first into the berth between two other small yachts. With hardly any wind and no tide to speak of, he kept in line and John in the bows did not have to snub the anchor cable once. Nancy was quick with the crossed stern lines and if Susan put the engine in neutral too soon, that was because Jim, used to sailing with an older and less alert crew, had given the order a little too quickly. Jim was somewhat anxious about the anchor on an unknown bottom and he and Nancy used _Imp_ to lay the kedge. By the time all this was done, it was well into the afternoon.

The advantages of a stern first berth then became apparent. John went to buy petrol while Susan and Nancy saw to the replenishment of the water. They finished this quickly and went to buy food. John returned with the petrol and went off to fetch oil for the lamps and the cooking stove. Susan and Nancy came back to report that the baker was sold out of everything but cake, the butcher was closed and no-one seemed to sell milk, but they had bought some cabbage and some peas. They had failed to find a map.  When they enquired for directions to the restaurant named in the message they had met with either blank stares or directions to somewhere “much better, much cheaper.” Susan started to heat water in a kettle, and Nancy went to the harbour-master’s office. All this took much less time without having to row _Imp_ to and from a buoy mooring. John returned with the oil and Susan switched off the tiny cooker, pouring the hot water into the washing bucket, which she handed to John. Susan had all the lamps ready on deck for Jim to fill. John went  below, to change into his grey flannel suit. Nancy came hurrying back, swinging herself easily over the stern rail.

“I finally got to see the telephone directory.” she announced, “and I’ve written down the address and phone number, for what it’s worth. Did John find a map?”

“Yes, a tourist one with some English and French on it. How did you get the address? They speak precious little English in that office. I did ask but got no joy.” asked Jim as Susan unfolded the map and spread it out as well as she could in the cockpit.

“Not much French either.” replied Nancy, “I did try. I mimed book and telephone and eventually got to see the telephone directory. But Barbecued Billy goats, it was a performance. The two girls in the little inner office came out to giggle. Let’s have a look at the map. Take a grid square each and look for this street. Better start in the centre of the city. We haven’t got too much time. Where’s John?”

“Changing. I let him have all the hot water for shaving.”

“Cold water won’t hurt me.”

“Is this it?” Jim asked. “In this area marked old town?

“Look likely, but it’s a fair distance.”

“This road here is the one we saw the ‘buses going along.” Nancy pointed out.

John hurried up the companionway with his tie still undone and Nancy shot down into the cabin like a startled rabbit. John poured a bucket quarter full of rather bristly water over the side.

“Don’t both wait up.” John said, just as if he had been part of the conversation all along. “ We can probably get a ’bus there but we might well have to walk back, and it looks about three or four miles.  I don’t suppose the last ‘bus will be very late.”

Susan and Jim showed him the map and where they thought the restaurant was, while he tied his tie and turned to Susan for inspection. He had left _Goblin’_ s only mirror in the cabin. Susan surveyed him critically and could find nothing to adjust. Jim folded up the map and gave it to John, who tucked it in the inner pocket of his suit. Jim supposed that any tailor who outfitted young naval officers was used to that sort of thing and cut the pockets accordingly.

Nancy shot up the companionway, stuffing her purse and passport into her skirt pocket.

“Susan, you are absolutely wonderful. Thank you” she said.

“That was quick!” Jim exclaimed.

“Susan had everything laid out ready.” Nancy explained, making to scramble out of the cockpit.

Susan sat Nancy down firmly with one hand and produced a lipstick from her own skirt pocket with the other. A few seconds later, Nancy and John had vaulted over the stern rail and were hurrying up the jetty to the road. Nancy was still pulling her gloves on.

“Things certainly buzz along when the Walkers are about.” Jim commented as the couple disappeared around the corner.

“People say the same things about the Blacketts.” Susan replied.

 “How did you know Nancy would forget the lipstick?” Jim asked.

“I’ve sat with her in a Lyon’s corner-house when she was the only woman without. I don’t think she even owns any.” explained Susan. “Even I wear lipstick sometimes, although I usually stick to pink. When I first started wearing it, my little sister got upset because she said it didn’t look like me anymore. It occurred to me then what a simple way it was of changing the appearance. So I bought some red and brought it with me just in case.”

“Why doesn’t Nancy wear lipstick? Doesn’t that Great – Aunt of hers approve?” Jim asked.

“She lives in Harrogate, so she would never know, although I am sure she would disapprove. She used to make them wear white frilly best dresses and lace mittens every day she could when they were younger.” Susan explained.

“I can’t see Nancy as a pretty little girl.”

“She can’t see herself as pretty at all; that’s why she won’t wear make-up. She says _why draw attention to something that can’t be helped?”_

“Maybe she just compares herself with you. Anyway, she seems assured enough. It hasn’t done her any harm.”  

“Maybe.” Susan’s eyes were fixed on the path to the roadway, but were unfocused. Jim felt the confiding mood between them slipping away and sought to regain it.

“Your brother seems to think she’s pretty enough anyway.” he said.

“They never talk about each other to me. Not like that, anyway.” Susan said, and Jim felt himself obscurely reprimanded. 


	6. Kiss in a Doorway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some moderate, non-graphic violence and reference to the threat of sexual assault.

John and Nancy were happily discovering that the world loves lovers, although they were blissfully unaware of the fact. They had to run for the ‘bus, but the driver kindly waited for them. The conductor, when shown the address on a scrap of paper, made sure they got off at the right stop and even wrote the time of the last ‘bus on the other side with a stump of pencil. Passers-by happily directed them to the restaurant and one passer-by even advised them of the best dish to eat once they got there, although they were unfortunately totally unable to understand what she said. Altogether, John and Nancy were convinced that Estonia was the friendliest and most welcoming country in Europe, even before a comfortable table for two was instantly forthcoming at the restaurant. They were both vaguely aware of the smiles and approving glances directed at them, but had no idea that their own stolen and admiring glances at each other had anything to do with it.

Aware that they may have to spend the whole evening in the restaurant, they started with soup. No sooner had it been ordered than a rose-seller appeared and started to go round the tables. Nancy nudged John’s foot with her own.

“Do you think all restaurants in Estonia have rose sellers or just this one?” she asked.

“I’ve no idea, but would you like a rose, my dear?” he replied.

“Yes, please, love.” she replied. She had pronounced the last word in the broadest Westmorland accent and he looked away from her dancing eyes, lest he burst into laughter or lean across the table and kiss her.

The rose seemed extortionately priced, but he bought her three, even though most men were buying their companions one or none at all.  They were both half expecting a message to be concealed in one of the roses, but neither of them could find one. The meal progressed through beefsteak, potatoes and cabbage, followed by dessert, which they chose through the simple expedient of pointing discretely at ones eaten by other diners.

 A long time afterwards, Titty asked Nancy what they had talked about at that meal.

“Nothing much, “she replied, gazing out over the Lake. “We didn’t mention what we were doing at all, of course. We talked about John and Susan learning to sail in Falmouth and Peggy and I trying to teach ourselves out of a book after Uncle Jim went off to the East again, the summer before you came.”

At the end of the evening, a waiter discretely coughed and deposited the bill on a small saucer near John’s elbow. They looked about them and discovered that they were nearly the last customers. A couple of men were drinking coffee in the far corner and the younger waiters were putting the chairs on the cleared tables.

“I’ve never been the last to leave somewhere in the evening.” remarked Nancy with great satisfaction once they were outside and had re-orientated themselves. “And now I have.”

“You sound like Titty aged about ten, when you say that.”

“And I suppose the mature and experienced John Walker aged – oh – three months older than me, does it all the time.”

“Well….I’ve never done it this sober.”

“John!”

“It’s not as if we actually got thrown out of anywhere. Not properly.”

“And improperly?”

“They asked us to please go away and stop singing.”

“What were you singing?”

“ _Eternal father, strong to save;_ it was the only thing we could all remember.”

“I can see how that might lack a certain jollity.”

“It was Williams’ idea. He said it had worked for his brother in Oxford. The college rugby team had stopped and sung at half a dozen pubs on the way back from a match against a Cambridge college and only had to pay for their beer once. Turned out they had an unfair advantage.”

“What was that?”

“Williams’ brother went to Jesus College. They were mostly Welshmen.”

“The name might have been a give-away.” Nancy suggested.

“Except that I knew he was born in Liverpool.”

“Anyway,” continued John after a small pause for thought, “It seems rather strange to leave somewhere this late and not have my arm round someone’s shoulders or their arm round mine.”

“Oh yes?” John had to admit to himself that the little edge of jealousy in her voice was music to his ears.  She’ll say “Whose shoulders?” in a minute, he thought.

“And what would you usually be saying to this someone?” she enquired.

There can’t be another woman like her in the world. John told himself. There would never be a boring minute with Nancy.

“If it’s Collinson, I’m usually saying, “don’t start a fight, he’s not worth it.” If it’s Wentworth, I’m usually saying “Don’t fall asleep, we’re nearly there.”  With Williams I just have to listen while he tells me I’m his best friend and no-one else understands him. He says it to everyone after his second pint, including policemen. Otherwise, it’s usually just supporting a brother midshipman.”

“And when Midshipman Walker was being supported?”

“To be honest with you, I’ve been really drunk exactly once, and didn’t much enjoy it. I don’t think anyone else did either.”

“An argumentative drunk?”

“A miserable one. I was so boring they put me in a corner and left me to sleep it off. I don’t know that you need to mention any of this to anyone else.” He had cried, he remembered, and even now cringed inwardly, not just at the embarrassment but at the desperate feeling of loss and loneliness. He had missed his family, the Lake, his friends and the _Swallow,_ but most of all he had missed Nancy with an ache that seemed unbearable. At least he had probably retained enough sense not to tell anyone what he was crying about.

“Your secrets are safe with me.”

“I know.” The street lights were fewer here, further from the city centre. He put his arm around her shoulders and awaited developments. After a few paces she slipped an arm around his waist. Her head was barely higher than his shoulder. After a few more paces she glanced up at his face. Although, she had a little half smile on her face, he knew she was seeking reassurance. He gave her shoulders a little squeeze and they carried on in great contentment for another two miles.

Nancy noticed the men first, when they crossed the long straight main road.

“John, those two men from the restaurant are following us. A long way behind us. ”

“Don’t look as though we’re looking. We need to escape them without looking as though we’re trying. This may just be a precaution on their part, keeping an eye on foreigners.”

“It might not be anyone official at all. We could just look like easy pickings for thieves.” Nancy suggested.

“Or they could just live in this direction.”

“Do you think so?”

“No,” replied John. “I like your casual thief idea, though.”

“We would probably be alright. Poorer but alright.”

“Maybe not even poorer. They may not be expecting a dog of war.” 

“A what?”

“A dog of war. In the gunroom, if a midshipman is making himself a nuisance for some reason, the sub-lieutenant orders the dogs of war to evict him. The dogs are two or three midshipmen who can handle themselves in a fight, or the sub-lieutenant thinks they can anyway. It’s not really fighting, of course, because the idea is to get them out without hurting them. All the same, you’ll look no end of a chump if you can’t do it, so you make sure you can. Tips get passed along quietly and so on. Most dogs of war seem to play Rugger and have younger brothers. They called it bundling at my prep. school.”

“You were lucky. They called it disgracefully unladylike behaviour at our school. We had a pillow capture war – my dorm against Peggy’s. Not that likely to be useful now.”

“Shall we have a look at our friends again?”  John swung Nancy round into his arms, so that she could peer over his shoulder. People described Nancy as a sturdy young woman, and she was the strongest girl he knew, but her rib-cage felt narrow and light beneath his hands and he wondered how much chance they really stood if it came to a fight.

“Closer.” She reported, “I still can’t tell if they are just following us or intending to do something.”

“We don’t want to lead them to _Goblin.”_ Said John, “It’s lucky I brought the map.”

“If they are just casual thieves, the last thing we should do it show them need a map. Most of the streets on the right were arranged as a sort of grid, I think, with houses on both sides.”

“Let’s take one of them, and then double back onto the main road. Take the first right and the next left.”

As they reached the corner, which had a street light, Nancy paused for a second and fumbled with her gloves.

“Hurry up, Nancy.”

Immediately they were around the corner, Nancy broke into a run. John followed her and, as they reached the next junction, she threw her gloves accurately into the road that turned right while they turned left.  They ran along for about an hundred yards before they slipped through a small garden gate. John peered very cautiously around the gate post.

“They’ve picked up the gloves.” he reported. “They’re heading down the road away from us.”

They heard bolts being shot back in the house behind them and a door opened. They could hear a small dog’s paws trotting along a path. They held their breath when the paws stopped. Then came the unmistakable sound of a dog lifting his leg. The sound went on for ages. Would the relieved dog go back inside the house? Would he wander about the garden? Would he catch their scent once his most pressing need was met? They were downwind, but would that be enough? The dog, now in no hurry, made a leisurely survey of his private empire.  He was quite close to them when he noticed their scent and started to bark.

“Run” said Nancy. “They’ll hear that.”

As she moved, the terrier sprang at her grabbing the hem of her coat. In desperate haste, she wriggled out of it and dragged the gate shut behind her. The terrier happily settled down to shake the intruding coat, but already they could hear running footsteps behind them and the door of the house flung open. There was some shouting and they heard the gate flung open, followed by a fresh volley of barking and two lots of shouting in different languages.

John turned left down an unlit side road with Nancy close on his heels. They were both running well and were nowhere near out of wind yet. They might yet make it back to the _Goblin_ and safety simply by out-running the men.

John stopped abruptly. Nancy ran into his back, rocking him slightly on his feet.

“It’s a dead end.” John said. “They’re already in the entrance to the lane. We’re trapped. If I gave you a boost, could you climb onto the roof?”

“Yes,” said Nancy, “but I can’t think of an innocent reason for being on the roof. They’ll know we have a reason to suspect them. They have actually seen us run yet. Not from them. Just from the dog. Let’s try this instead.”

She dragged him into a doorway and pulled him close. Very, very close.

“Kiss me.” She whispered.

“How is this meant to hel ..mmfmf?”

“Galoot. Try to look like you mean it.”

“They’re getting closer.”

“I know. I know am a big ugly lump, but surely you can kiss me if the alternative is…….”

“Nancy Blackett, you are the most beautiful woman I know, and no-one is ever allowed to call you ugly, not even you.”

Their lips met again, but this time John’s hand was buried in her hair, tilting her head back and his other arm was around her waist. She could not have moved an inch if she wanted to, and it felt wonderful.

 A hand grabbed at her shoulder and would have pulled her over if John’s arm had not been around her waist. The two men made brief comments she could not follow in German, then one grabbed at the front of her blouse, ripping it. She pushed him away and tried to kick his legs, but this pulled her off balance too. She managed to duck the main force of the blow, but it caught her cheek.  John had felled the other man with his second blow. His third blow caught Nancy’s assailant from the side, further unbalancing him. Their combined efforts slammed the man’s head into the stone door post and he slumped, stunned. John and Nancy ran back down the street and round the corner. They had nearly reached the harbour before their pace slacked.

John pulled them behind a very large dustbin. It appeared to belong to a café, one that served a lot of fish by the smell of it.

“Let’s check to see if we’re being followed.” He whispered.

“But they were unconscious” she whispered back.

“It’s not really an exact science.  They may have been up on their feet a few minutes later and with a complete memory of exactly what we look like and what we did; they may unconscious for a while and have no recollection of the last few hours; at worst we’ve killed  one of them and someone saw us. I think that’s unlikely, though.”

They paused, both listening.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

“A few bruises.  How about you?”

“Bruises, That’s all.”

 “Better get Susan to have a look when we’re back on the ship.”

There was a brief pause.

“I didn’t understand what they were saying, but I caught a few words. I’m fairly sure it was German.” Nancy said softly.

“Could you remember exactly what you heard?

“No.”

“Thank God for that.”

“What you mean?”

“They were saying exactly what they would do to you.”

“Were they going to kill us?”

“No, worse than that.”

“Worse than death?”

“They were going to kill us as well, when they had finished”

Nancy digested this in silence for a while, then whispered “Thank-you for saving my life, John, and… well, thank you.”

“A pleasure.” He took off his jacket and handed it to her. “Here, you can’t walk along the quay like that. It might put ideas in people’s heads. Let’s get back to _Goblin_.”

* * *

 

It was nearer dawn than midnight when they returned to the _Goblin,_ and a light mistclung to the coast. Both Jim and Susan had been waiting up for them, but Jim fell asleep quickly on their return. Susan kept anchor -watch, checking on them occasionally. Both of them lay completely still in their bunks and but were awake until it was broad daylight. John dozed off for a couple of hours after dawn, but was wide awake again by six. He gave up the unequal struggle at about seven o’clock, got up and dressed himself. Jim was snoring gently. He made two mugs of tea and brought one up to Susan. He sat on the steps, making sure he was not visible from the shore.

 “So what happens now?” she asked

“We leave here as soon as this mist clears, survey our section of the Gulf of Finland as we planned, try next week in Helsinki. Try to look as if we’re having fun.”

 “You know, up until last night, I really was. I was enjoying being the youngest. I’d almost forgotten how much I enjoyed the sailing part of sailing. I do quite enjoy the cooking, but it was nice to do the other stuff as well, and not have to constantly look around and see what everyone else is up to.”

“You know, Bridget is the same age as we were when we first sailed _Swallow_.” John pointed out. Susan, watching his face, saw it soften slightly as he mentioned _Swallow’s_ name.

“Titty says she’s only been mentioning it five times a day.” she said. “The mist is beginning to clear already. It’s only radiation mist, not a proper fog.”

John snorted with amusement and lowered himself down the companionway.

“John?”

He looked up.

“You might want to try cold cream to remove that lipstick. There’s some in my wash kit.”

 He poured more tea and shook Jim gently, handing him the mug as soon as he was awake enough to take it, then took the second mug through to the fore-cabin. He looked down at Nancy’s sleeping face as he heard Jim go on deck.  Her cheek-bone was bruised and she was developing a black-eye. She hadn’t mentioned the split lip last night.  He abandoned the rather tempting idea of waking her with a kiss.

“John?” she opened her eyes. Not asleep then.

“Maybe I’d better go by myself next week.” He said.

“Not on your life, you tame galoot!” said Nancy. “If you think you’ll be safer with Jim, take him, but you’re not going by yourself.”

“Do you think I should? Take Jim instead I mean?”

“He’s bigger than me, stronger than me, older than me and they may be looking out for a man and a girl together.”

“So I should take him.”

“No.” She struggled to sit up in the bunk. He helped her, letting her put her arm around his neck and lever herself to a sitting position. “It’s Jim’s ship. We could get into all sorts of problems getting home if you and he both aren’t fit to sail her. Also …… well you asked me the question. When you’re right, you know it. You wouldn’t ask me if it was the right thing to do. I don’t know much about this sort of thing, but I do know you, John Walker.” She sipped her tea cautiously. “You have a way of being really sensible and careful and prepared most of the time. Then sometimes you do the daring thing and it works when the safe thing wouldn’t have worked. Getting the Swallow up from the bottom of the lake.  That trick leaning _Swallow_ over to win the race.  Going across the North Sea instead of trying to go back.”

“Trying to hang on and sinking _Swallow_ in the first place?”

“Maybe the talent only works when you’re already in a fix in the first place. Why did you hang on that day anyway?”

“Trying to impress you.” He would ask her now. She had given him an opening and they were as alone as they were likely to get on such a small ship.  He was already on one knee, even.

“Nancy, would you like me to look at your injuries before you dress?” Susan’s voice, fully of concern, made him jump. He got himself out of the fore cabin, and started cooking breakfast, only too glad to have the excuse to hide his blushes in the heat of the little stove. He could just hear the tone of the girls’ voices above the noise of the cooking and the squawk of sea-gulls. Unusually, Susan seemed to be doing most of the talking.


	7. Trying again

 

A week later _Goblin_ slipped into the berth allotted to her in Helsinki. It was another buoy berth.

“Which,” Nancy pointed out, “has its advantages. It’s much harder for someone else to board her.”

“It’s harder for you to get aboard in a hurry.” Susan pointed out. “Last week could easily have ended much worse than it did.”

“We still don’t know that they were following us.”

“Nancy, they attacked you. Don’t tell me those bruises don’t still hurt.”

Nancy grinned at her.

“Not too badly. I’ve had a good nurse.”

 “Student nurse.”

“Call it good nursing then.”

“I still don’t think it’s safe. You know that too, if you’ll only admit it. I know perfectly well you haven’t been sleeping properly. You lie still and pretend. You’re worrying about this, waiting for it all to go wrong again.”

“I could just as easily be waiting and worrying about something else.”

“And what something else would that be?”

“For all we know they could have been casual thieves or muggers, we don’t know that they were following us as _us._ What are a couple of Germans going to be doing in Helsinki?”

“What were they doing in Tallinn?  Do people really go to foreign countries to do a spot of robbery with violence? Are you twenty-one or twelve, Nancy?”

“And just what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re being ridiculously naïve. I’ve seen those bruises. Not the eye or the lip or the cheek. The other bruises.  That wasn’t the action of a random thief.”

“I don’t think that’s what professional spies do, either. And yes, Susan, I do know what they intended. That was what they were _saying_ in German.”

“How do you know? You don’t speak German.”

“John does.”

“And he told you? Of all the stupid, brutal..”

“Yes, he told me and don’t you dare to tell me he shouldn’t have; don’t you dare say that, Susan Walker.”

“And what possible point could be served by frightening you like that?”

“Not frighten me, warn me. To be fair. Not to drag me into something without my knowing the risks.”

“Why does he have to drag you into it at all?”

“Who else was he going to take with him? You? Is he really going to take you anywhere that’s too dangerous for me? For that matter, am I going to let him? _Sorry Titty, Sorry Roger. I let your brother and sister both get killed._ I’m not going to let that happen.”

“What about _Sorry Peggy, I let Nancy get killed?”_

“The trouble with you is that you…”

 (On deck, Jim winced.  Raised voices were bad enough, and he didn’t really like to think that Susan was capable of that degree of vehemence. If they were both going to shout at the same time….. He wondered if he should go down, but had no idea what he would say if he did.  The row had started quietly, so he did not know exactly what he was blundering into. He hoped John would hurry up with that petrol.)

“………..keep thinking that it’s all down to you.”

 They both finished the same sentence at the same time. There was a silence.

“Susan, I’m sorry I shouted. And I know that I’m bossy. And I do realise you must have been worried sick about John. And I know it is worse being the one who has to wait behind. And if it wasn’t for you, we’d never have been allowed to do half the things we did when we were younger and most of the best times wouldn’t have happened.”

Susan sat down, suddenly exhausted.

“You used to have the ideas.” she said, “And I knew you were going to be late, so I wasn’t that worried until you actually came back and I saw your face. But this time I am frightened and I’m frightened for both of you. And I do realise that you can run faster, and think faster and fight better than me.” She gave Nancy a smile that verged on watery.

“But not think better.” Nancy sat beside Susan. “And I do, truthfully, think this time will be safer. There is no realistic way for those Germans to know the day or time or place we’ll be meeting this agent.   We are as sure as we can be that we haven’t been followed. It’s not as though we came straight here from Tallinn.  All that surveying was as good a way as any I can think of to show if we were being followed. Most of all, we don’t have a four mile walk home.”

Susan sighed, “I just wish we didn’t have to do it at all.”

“John’s got his orders.”

“I’ve got a father whose life is obeying orders and now I’ve got a brother whose life is obeying orders.”

“And your life isn’t about duty? You’ve got a good father and two good brothers.”

“Oh, Nancy, I shouldn’t have said..”

“You are so extremely tactful, you Walkers, that it is almost reassuring to know you can slip up.” said Nancy as lightly as she could. “Anyway, Roger’s life seems to consist entirely of _not_ obeying orders.”

She was rewarded by seeing Susan nearly smile.

“Shall we go on deck before Jim thinks we’ve done each other in?” Nancy suggested.

“Nancy?”

Nancy turned and looked back at Susan.

“A brother, too?”

Nancy’s voice was usually soft and quiet. “Tom. He was only a baby. It was the ‘flu. He would be the same age as Titty, more or less. They think I was too young to remember. Peggy really doesn’t remember. Don’t ask her will you?”

Susan nodded.

* * *

 

They were all together in the cockpit. John was dressed in his grey flannel suit and Nancy in the dress she had worn to travel to Felixstowe. Susan had coaxed some semblance of respectability back into Nancy’s hat. John was showing them the new rendezvous on yet another tourist map. This one had required quite a bit of work with a Finnish/ English dictionary before it would yield its secrets.

“It isn’t very far at all.” said John. “We’ll whistle when we want you to come and fetch us.  Long-short-long-short.  Can we borrow your whistle, please, Susan? The _Goblin_ ’s not so close as all that to the jetty.”

Susan slipped the lanyard from round her neck and put it over Nancy’s. John felt a statement was being made, but had no idea what it was.

“We’ll leave the restaurant by ten at the latest.” John said. “That’s just about sunset. We’ll be back by eleven at the absolute latest. Whatever happens _, don’t come looking for us._ Our safety depends on the _Goblin_.”

He handed a single red rose to Nancy.

“Will you wear that, please?”

He turned to Susan and handed her a small posy of Lily of the Valley as Nancy fumbled about in the sewing kit to find a pin.

“They had these in the shop, and I thought you might like them. Nothing for you, Jim, I thought it might start rumours. Take good care of Susan, won’t you?”

John picked up his hat, started to go, came back and kissed Susan on the cheek. After the briefest of hesitations, so did Nancy.


	8. Night in a Hotel Room

 

No-one who has spent any length of time cruising in a small yacht will pass up the chance to use clean, comfortable, modern plumbing. The restaurant was well provided in this respect.

A voice came from one of the cubicles.

“And would you be John Walker, young man?”

John had been expecting to be startled by some-one coming in, not by someone already there, he reflected ruefully, as he collected a sleeve full of water from the cold tap. A middle-aged man with an odd complexion and a puffy face stepped out from behind the door.

“You mistook a cubicle with an open door for an empty one. Poor tradecraft that.”

“What do you mean “poor tradecraft”?”

“You paused too long, then. You really are an amateur, my dear boy”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” said John backing cautiously towards the door. 

“At least someone warned you against men in public lavatories who call you “dear boy”. I was beginning to think you were totally wet behind the ears. That isn’t my inclination, fortunately. Far too many levers for blackmail. If you will allow me to.. ”

The slight move towards the jacket pocket was all that was needed. John grasped the man’s wrist and twisted the slightly puffy yellow face into the wall.

“Ah, much better. But I don’t keep my gun or a knife in my jacket. Spoils the line. I was going to present my credentials. Inside pocket. You can help yourself.”

“Thank you.” said John, and did.

“I suppose you know you are being followed?” Mr Cavendish asked.

“I suspected as much.”

“And yet you came anyway.”

“I had my orders.”

“God help us all. If I move you’ll salute me and if I stand still for long enough you’ll whitewash me.”

“I’m not wearing a hat,” John said absently, “and the whitewash doesn’t stand the salt water well.” He released “Mr” Cavendish and handed his papers back to him. “Do you require transport or merely our services as messengers, sir?”

“Oh, transport. Now, you are being followed. I, being a professional, am not. I know where _Goblin_ is berthed. It would be quite foolish, and put your delightful companion in harm’s way, if we went back there now. If they have all three of us together, they will make their move.”

“So we go there separately?”

“Of course. Now, I shall go as soon as we finish this little chat. You can come to the ship as early as you like in the morning. Here is the key to a room booked in you name. The hotel is a quite clean and you should have no questions asked. The room is already paid for. You may have to show your passports, of course.”

John looked at the key fob, “We passed it about fifty yards before we got here.”

“Leave as early and as furtively as you like. They are used to it. I’m sure you and the delightful Miss Blackett while find some way of amusing yourselves.”

“Speak of her with respect, or not at all. Sir.”

“Delightful, quite delightful. You, not her, I mean.”

“You haven’t asked for any proof of my identity.”

“It would be easier to fake your credentials than your manner. Besides, you have something of the look of your father. He doesn’t much care for me either. Your sister and the gallant Mr Brading may not be so trusting. Have you any pre-arranged signal?”

“Long-short-long-short. You’ll have to whistle as best you can.” The very thought of taking  Susan’s whistle from around Nancy’s neck and letting this man put it to his lips was nauseating to John.

“And something to tell her that you gave me this information without coercion?”

“Tell her I told you that Peter Duck’s cave exists, but I didn’t tell you where it was because Titty would never forgive me if I did.”

“See you tomorrow morning, Mr Walker.”

“Sir.”

Cavendish stood on the lavatory seat and tried, and failed, to reach the small frosted open window.

“Well don’t just stand there boy, give me a leg up.”

“Sir.”

* * *

 

As promised, the room was clean. It had a bath-room attached to it and a rather rickety-looking iron fire-escape. They were taking off their hats and coats, when a knock came at the door. John answered it.

“When would you like me to come in, sir?”

Nancy spoke. “Half –past four.”

The chamber-maid repeated the question to John. “When would you like me to come in, sir?”

“Half-past four.”

The chamber- maid sniffed pointedly  and departed.

“We shall have to remember to unlock the door for her.” remarked Nancy.

“Will they really give us tea at that time? Or is that just to wake us up. And why wouldn’t she listen to you?”

“Maybe she thinks it beneath her to talk to the hired actress. Perhaps she thinks I really am your mistress. At college, they always hinted that something dreadful would happen to our reputations if we were seen without gloves. I threw them away and now look at me! A pity I can’t tell the other girls.” Nancy’s manner was flippant, but strangely brittle.

She sat down on the bed beside him. He always had hated admitting it, when he didn’t understand. He had not asked about the leading lights straight away, that first summer on the island.

“Oh John, I’ve worked as a chamber-maid, remember. We didn’t get this sort of thing a lot in “Rio” but every hotel gets it sometimes, I think. If a couple want a divorce, for whatever reason, they need to produce evidence of adultery. Usually they do, anyway. I’m not quite sure, to be honest. So the husband hires a room, maybe under an obviously assumed name, and pretends to have an….assignation with a woman. Or maybe he really does, only it’s generally someone hired for the occasion. If he’s going to marry another woman afterwards, he won’t want her name brought before the courts. And if it is his wife who has found someone else and asked for a divorce, he might not have anyone else. There has to be evidence, of course, so the chambermaid or someone else has to find them in bed. Or at least in a situation that shows they didn’t just pop into each other’s rooms for a cup of cocoa. Then the maid has to give evidence.”

“And you had to be the chambermaid?” John was appalled.

“The Great-Aunt has her uses. Mrs Burns was furious when she discovered the other girls had let me be the one who went in once. They were only trying to be kind. The tips are especially good you see, and they wanted to make sure I had my fair chance. I came out of the room, rather confused and not knowing what was expected of me, and went straight and told her. They had rung the bell, but not asked for anything when I got there.  Well, she went straight in and made sure she saw for herself so I didn’t have to give evidence and the Great-Aunt didn’t give mother a hard time about it.”

She glanced up into his face.

“It won’t be too difficult,” she said gently, “I can be just combing my hair or something, fully dressed but with my shoes off. You can be in bed with the clothes pulled up to your chin. Put your jacket and tie over the chair where she can see them. I expect she swears a deposition or something and sends it to which ever lawyer people ask for. It doesn’t make sense for English people to use a Finnish hotel for this sort of thing otherwise. Maybe it isn’t usually English people who come here.”

“It seems so unfair.” he said, slipping and arm about her shoulders. She leaned into his side slightly.

“I think it is. Only well-off people can afford to do it at all. There was one man. He sat there at breakfast, in the dining room by himself. He had a table that looks out over the lake. He sat there with tears running down his face. When I brought him his toast he said to me “I would do anything, anything at all for her, and all I can do is this.” He said his wife had married him because she felt she should, only afterwards she met someone she really did love.”

This time her glance was troubled. He stroked her hair gently with his free hand. She didn’t object, so he kissed her forehead, her cheek, the tip of her nose, her lips. She kissed him back and gently touched his face. They kissed again and he held her close.  She seemed to melt into his arms. She felt so warm through her thin summer frock.  He supposed he really should stop, say something, tell her how he felt. He would in a minute. Her lips felt wonderful against his. He would stop in a minute. Twisted around, holding each other close, they overbalanced, falling backwards with their feet still on the floor. They both laughed. He leaned over and kissed her again. They were both breathless.

A door slammed, somewhere, down the corridor and voices where raised. A man and a woman were arguing in a language he didn’t recognise; he supposed it was Finnish. He sat up abruptly.

“I’m sorry. I….I know I shouldn’t have. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.” He stood up and paced around the room.

Nancy wriggled herself upright. Her hurt, puzzled look seemed a worse reproach than anything she could say. Than anything anyone else could possibly say. He had dragged her far deeper into espionage than he ever intended and had taken her to a room in a hotel the main business of which appeared to be unspeakably sordid.

Tentatively she reached out a hand to lay it on his arm. He patted it.

“It is all my fault. I got us into this situation. Please forgive me,” he said.

“Whatever for? There is nothing to forgive. We’re in it together. I can stand a bit of a row. I can stand it better than you can, probably.”

“You shouldn’t have to stand my rows. Don’t let’s argue. Try to get some sleep. Do you want first go of the bathroom?”

She smiled, rather sadly, and went.

She was fully dressed when she came out and wriggled under the covers. When John came out the bathroom he turned the light out before he settled himself in the room’s only armchair. 

“Why don’t you get into bed?” Nancy asked. “We’re both quite decent and fully clothed.”

“No.” he said more curtly than he intended. “You get some sleep.”

He must have slept eventually, because when he awoke there was a blanket over him. The bed was empty and the bathroom door was open. The bathroom, too, was empty. Had she gone back to _Goblin_? Was she so annoyed, so furious with him? With Nancy you generally knew she was angry, and she forgave quickly. Had he passed some invisible line? Would there be tight-lipped silences and “you know what you did”s? Other girls did this, he knew. Talk from hammock to hammock in the “snotties flat” confirmed this, although everyone pretended not to be bothered (except the almost permanently irritated Collinson). He realised now that listening to the other midshipmen, he had felt slightly smug in his friendship with Nancy. And of course, he thought, you only heard one side of the story.

Nancy herself ghosted into the room, closing the door very quietly behind her.

“The front entrance is still being watched. One of the same men as last week and another one, trying to look as if they’re having a casual smoke. I’ve never seen anyone take so long to light a pipe – including Jim.”

“I thought you’d gone.” was all John could make himself say, almost light headed with relief. 

Nancy pointed silently to her shoes, still on the bedside rug.

“You’re a galoot yourself, sometimes, John.” She stood on tip toes to give him a peck on the cheek as she passed to the dressing table. She fished in her pocket for a comb and laid it in front of her. “The maid will be here soon. We can’t go until she’s seen us; otherwise she’ll start wondering what we really wanted. You better take off your jacket and tie and put your shoes somewhere more obvious.”

Nancy sat on the dressing table stool, surveying the effect.

“Collar and part of the shoulder are still showing.” she told him.

He sighed and took off his shirt.

“Don’t fold it. It looks too…. too naval. Throw it on the floor in an unprincipled fashion.”

“Is untidiness associated with low morals then?”

“According to the Great Aunt it is.”

“It’s amazing Roger has stayed out of jail for as long as he has, then.”

They were laughing when the chambermaid stalked in after the most cursory knock, put her hands to her mouth in pantomimed horror and stalked out again. 

“Come on,” said Nancy, “down the fire escape. I don’t want to run into our smoking chums and I don’t want to be there when that maid finds out we’re not going to tip.”   


	9. Finishing Early

It was still only just after sunrise when they returned to _Goblin._ Susan saw them, put her finger to her mouth in an exaggerated manner to stop them whistling and then rowed across in _Imp_ to fetch them. John and Nancy were both expecting to find Susan in what Titty would describe as “her most native mood.” Susan and Peggy both hated changes of plans, but whereas Peggy told you so outright (and sometimes repeatedly), Susan was more inclined to let her displeasure be felt rather than voiced. John was intensely relieved that Susan had forgotten to make Nancy wear lipstick yesterday evening. Susan noticed details.

“We’ve got to get home as quickly as we can.” said Susan briskly, “Your Mr Cavendish is dying, I think.”

“What happened? Was he attacked? He seemed alright when he left?”

“It’s his liver. I’ve seen that skin colour with the puffiness before. The patients didn’t recover.”

“Does he know?”

“Is there anything we can do? Should we fetch a doctor?”

“He knows he’s ill. He told Jim so more or less as soon as he got aboard, and asked us to get him back to England as soon as possible.  He will only trust an English doctor, he says, or rather he won’t trust one abroad. Not even an English doctor abroad – I did ask that.” said Susan

“Do you think he knows he’s dying, but won’t say?” asked Nancy.

“It’s possible. However, he does have some important information to get back. Something he says was worth blowing his cover for.”

“Hello, Jim’s on deck.” Nancy said.

“He doesn’t like Mr Cavendish at all.” said Susan, as John and Nancy hopped into _Imp._ “In fact, if Jim didn’t want to get home himself, I think he’d have argued about going back.”

“There has been rather a lot of, well, not surveying or sailing.” said Nancy fairly. “And it’s not exactly as if he volunteered for that sort of thing.”

“Well I don’t like “Mr” Cavendish either, but we’ve got to do the decent thing by him.” said John, “We could run him across to Stockholm, see if he could catch the mail plane and get back to our surveying. We’ve done about three quarters.”

 “Jim is getting awfully worried.” Susan pointed out. “Do you really think it’s quite fair on him?”

“It seems a great pity not to finish the job.” replied John.

“ _Goblin_ is his ship.” Susan pointed out.

When they were all on board, they discovered that their idea dropping Mr Cavendish off at Stockholm was vetoed out of hand. He was adamant that he would not set foot on the soil of any other nation but Britain. He was going back in the Goblin with the utmost dispatch and that was that. He was also adamant that his hard won information should be sent back to his masters in London by some other means as well.

“After all,” he pointed out, “Little boats do sink, dontcherknow.”

It was almost impossible to tell, Nancy thought, whether John or Jim seethed most at this. Whether this was intended as slight to _Goblin_ or their seamanship, Nancy really could not tell. She suspected Cavendish irritated information from people, making dig after dig until he got a reaction. There had been a girl like that at school, in the form below.  John was showing his irritation by “Sir”- ing Cavendish quite excessively. This only seemed to amuse Cavendish more.

After a great deal of argument it was agreed that Nancy would take the message back to London separately. After more argument Cavendish convinced Jim that trouble would be waiting for _Goblin_ if she went back to Stockholm, or more precisely, that trouble would be waiting for John and Nancy if they went back to Stockholm or possibly other Swedish ports on their own passports.

“Even Copenhagen may be a problem. Just because a country is neutral doesn’t means individuals in it are, or that they can’t be bought.  You’ve gone through all the proper channels and that leaves a paper trail. The possibility is that you’re both wanted in Tallinn for assault and maybe burglary. Did you leave any material evidence behind?”

“My gloves,” said Nancy, “and my mackintosh. The terrier got it.”

“Anything in the pockets?” Cavendish asked sharply. The drawling, fruity voice was gone. “Tailors’ labels?”

“Kendal mint cake, string, pocket knife. I bought the coat from a shop in Kendal. There must be thousands of them sold. The gloves had my name in. Nancy is quite clear, but the Blackett is wearing off. With a bit of luck they might be looking for Nancy Black, not Ruth Blackett.”

There was a long silence.

“I don’t how you could have done much worse, young lady.” The obnoxious fruit voice was back.

The _Goblin’_ s skipper and crew all spoke at once.

“Now look here, that’s hardly fair.”

“That’s beastly cheek.”

“Maybe I should go with John instead.”

“At least I’ll know better next time.”

There was another pause.

“Susan, I’d rather you stayed on Sea-Bear. We might need a nurse.”

“Student nurse.”

“I have to admit that the err ..”skipper” is correct.” Drawled Cavendish. He turned to John and Nancy. “We land you both in Riga, you catch the train and, with luck, become just another poorly tailored couple in a third class compartment.”

John caught Susan’s eye. “That leaves only two to sail the ship,” he said, “one each watch. It’s too far that sort of thing.”

“John stays with _Goblin._ I take the message.” Nancy suggested,

“No,” said the Walkers together.

“But we could,”

“No.” all four of the others told her

“If we,”

“Not safe for you or the message.” John interrupted, “I’m not sure it’s something I would care to do myself. You’d have to go to sleep at some point. Two people could take it in turns to stay awake and NOT have their pockets picked.”

“You would probably be back in London first.” Cavendish pointed out. “This is intelligence that may be wanted any day.”

“If,” she tried again.

“You are not travelling half-way across Europe by yourself with an unknown number of Nazi thugs following you.” Susan cut her off.

“If you would just let me finish,” said Nancy, resorting to her “teacher” voice. “I was going to say that if you telegraphed from here, you would catch Roger and Titty before they left England. If Sea Bear met you in Copenhagen, one of them could transfer to _Goblin._ It’s a bit rotten for whoever transfers, of course. Maybe they could travel back and join Sea-Bear. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I can think of.”

There was a pause.

“I’ll write out the telegraph to send.” said John, “I think Jim or Susan should take the telegraph.”

“I’ll take it.” said Jim   

* * *

 

The wind was getting lighter again. In _Swallow_ or _Amazon_ , they would have considered the ideal sailing breeze. In _Goblin_ it was barely enough to avoid the need for the engine and the hatch was partly open to air the cabin.

Newly relieved of his watch, John went forward to where Nancy was standing on look out. Her red stocking cap was in her hands.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I’m making up my mind to throw it away.”

“What’s the matter with it?”

“The colour. It might be seen as having political implications. I can’t pack it and I’m not going to leave it here to endanger Susan or Jim – considering where we’ll be going and all the other risks.”

“Do you think it really will be that bad? Surely they can’t watch every one all the time.”

“They don’t have to. They just have to get people to watch each other.” said Nancy bleakly. “I go to lunch with Aunt Helen sometimes on a Sunday, when I’m at college. She knows lots of people who are artistic in various ways. Even that’s monitored; it’s all got to be German enough. Some people have had to leave, some because they are Jewish, some because they speak up.” She gestured with the cap. “It just feels as if I’m throwing away my childhood, the lake, all the good times we’ve had.”

“Don’t just throw it and let it float, then. Give it an honourable sea burial. I’ll get you a sinker or something. I’ll be back in a minute.” He went aft to rummage around in the lockers of the cockpit. Nancy waited by the rail.

 “This was all I could find, but I think it will be enough.” John said. “Shall I tied it on or will you?”

“You do it, please.”

I’ve seen John tie knots a thousand times, she thought, he always was the best of at it. Why does it bother me now? Why am I breathing faster because John Walker has his sleeves rolled up to his elbow, which is the way he has always worn them for the nine years I’ve known him? It isn’t even as if we are touching, well, not quite. She forced her eyes up and scanned the horizon, which was after all her present duty. Nothing had changed. She glanced back at John, who was now watching her with an expression she could not interpret.

“Do you want me to drop it as well?”

“No. No thank you I have to do that for myself.”

When the red cap sank beneath the waves, John said gently. “It may be a kind of goodbye to childhood, but being grown-up has its advantages too.” He took hold of her hand which was next to his on the rail. “For one thing,..”

“John, will you take the tiller?” Jim called. “I’m going to start the engine.”

“Aye,sir.”

* * *

 

“Can’t we at least wait a few hours? Just in case, they can’t catch the train?” pleaded Susan as she watched the two figures leave the other end of the jetty in Riga.

“It’s too much of a risk, Susan, it really is.” Jim said, “I dislike Cavendish as much as anyone possible could, but I have to agree he’s right about that. If we are found with a spy aboard we are in trouble no consul is likely to get us out of easily. At the very least we would probably be imprisoned for a few days. I couldn’t let that happen to you.”

“It doesn’t seem right put John and Nancy at risk to make it safer for us.”

“It isn’t really. They have British passports with all the right visas, which counts for a lot. They’ll be home before us.” Jim put an arm around Susan’s shoulder, which she did not shrug off. “They really will be alright, you’ll see.”


	10. Plans and changes of Plans

 

Shrewsbury College,

Oxford

 16th June 1938

Dear Mum and Dad,

  The lecture by Miss Vane last night was brilliant. She came into the JCR for coffee afterwards and I spoke to her. She sees nothing wrong in writing popular fiction, so long as you do your honest best and don’t let your standards slip just because you can. She was so kind; she has agreed to read one of my stories. She says she won’t speak to her publisher unless it is really good, but she’ll spend an afternoon reading my work and write to me know what she thinks. She said to send it soon, as she is spending time with her feet up every afternoon at the moment. I’ve sent the Highland story off to her at this morning.

My bicycle and trunk are going to Paddington by train tomorrow. I know the bicycle will be a bit of a nuisance, but if I leave it in Oxford, I’m sure it will disappear.  Please could you fetch them, Dad? Please could you remind him, Mum?

I’m getting the train to Arbroath (changing at Edinburgh) on the 19th. Peggy and I will have to buy stores and things without Susan, which will feel very strange. I just hope we don’t forget anything. The Walkers don’t come up until the 22nd. Titty doesn’t have her last Higher cert. paper until the 20th. It is history, and she is not feeling very confident about it. However, she said that about her school cert. and did well, so I’m not going to believe her! She says he mother is really looking forward to sailing again.

I will send lots of postcards. You might like to forward them to Captain Walker in Portmouth.

Lots and lots of love, Dot.

* * *

 

Cambridge

10th June

Dear Tom,

I hope you are well and things are going OK at the hospital. My exams are over and I don’t intend to hang around longer than I can help. The big thing now is the balls and parties. I haven’t the right clothes, I don’t hunt or shoot birds and the young ladies have painted faces and finger-nails and I never know what to say to them. Chaps like me lie low or clear out, I’ve discovered. I’m doing the latter, but not because of the parties. This is an opportunity I would take up like a shot anytime. 

   I’m off to Arbroath tomorrow, joining the Walkers and some friends for a cruise in the Baltic. The ship is the _Sea Bear_. You remember the incident with the Great Northern Divers I told you about? The owner is coming with us this time and his children who are about the same age as little Bridget. I’ve packed “Seabirds of Northern Europe” and my new binoculars and hope for some very interesting sightings. I will take as many photographs as possible for the Coot Club.  I hope your _viva_ goes alright. Dot sends her love. She is coming too, of course. She’s great friends with Titty Walker, who is probably even more imaginative than Dot and very sensitive and sympathetic. Please give my best wishes to your parents and of course the other Coots.

Best wishes,

Dick

* * *

 

St. Thomas Hospital

London

12th June

Dear Dick,

It would appear we are both in luck this summer. I’m heading for the Baltic too, after the _vivas_ are over. They come after the written papers, worse luck.  I find them even more unnerving.  You remember me mentioning Dugdale who was working on the same cadaver? His governor knows someone with a smallish motor yacht he keeps in a small fishing village near Goteburg. The chap who owns the yacht has been sent by his outfit to work in Stockholm, so we are taking it around the Swedish coast for him. “We” are myself, Dugdale and his parents. We get the ferry to Gothenburg and back from Stockholm _via_ Copenhagen to Newcastle. I wonder if you will be doing the same sort of things as we will on this trip? I enclose an approximate itinerary, as it would be a great pity to just miss you.

Please give my very best wishes to Dorothea.

All the best,

 

* * *

 

_18 th June 1938                  Use of the Whetstone bridge_

_ Method _

_The apparatus was set up as in the diagram below, then_

__

“Please sir, Walker is to go to the Headmaster’s study at once.”

Roger looked doubtful at the Physics master and then at the tangle of wires on the bench beside him.

“Run along, Walker, I am sure Perkins can elucidate the mysteries of the Whetstone bridge without your help.”

Roger was very far from being sure of this, but obligingly “ran along”, ignoring Perkins imploring look. It was time Perkins learned to stand on his own feet. Roger had a clean conscience, unusually, having been preoccupied with packing to go to the Baltic. He had been rather taken with the means used to extract Susan from her hospital, so he knocked on the Headmaster’s study with rather high hopes. These rose still higher when he saw his mother sitting in the visitor’s armchair.

“Ah, Walker, your mother has some sad news for you. I’ll leave it to her to explain.”

And with a flapping of dusty black, he was gone.

Roger turned to his mother with a wide grin. “Are we off early then?”

The grin faded as he saw his mother’s expression.

“Susan?” he asked tentatively, “John?”

“They’re both fine. There was a letter from them, but that’s not why I came. I had a telegram.”

She handed it to him.

“I thought, after you married Daddy, grandfather didn’t want to..” Roger’s voice trailed off.

“He’s still my father, Roger.”

“Is Daddy going with you? Are you taking us? What about Titty’s Highers?”

“I’ve got to go at once, Roger. Your father can’t get leave that quickly. Titty has to stay here and finish her examinations. I can’t leave her by herself. I’d like to take you all, of course, but….”

“What about Bridget?”

“I know it’s a dreadful responsibility to put on you both, but I think I should leave her with you. She’d love Australia of course, but she’s desperately excited to be going surveying with you. Besides, by myself, I’ve got a chance of flying at least part of the way there. Two seats will be much harder to get. If I can fly as far as Egypt even, that would be a great saving of time. I’m going up to London to see if I can arrange it now.” Roger noticed with surprise the medium-sized suitcase besides his mother’s armchair and glanced again at the time on the telegram. She caught his look and smiled ruefully. “I married  a sailor, Roger. My whole married life, one part of me has feared being sent for half way across the planet in a hurry. I plan accordingly.”

“Are you going now, today? Does Daddy know?”

“I rang him first. Luckily he was actually in his office at the time and could tell me who to speak to about getting on a flight. He’ll be home in the evenings as much as he can manage, until you set off for the Sea-Bear. If you get back more than a week before the start of term, go to Beckfoot, if Mrs Blackett will have you.”

“When will you be back?”

“I’ll stay there until the end.”

Roger nodded and his eyes filled with tears, not for the grandfather he had never met, but for his mother, facing the loss of a parent. When he hugged her, he realised he was now taller than she was, although she was taller than Susan and nearly as tall as Titty.     

She turned to pick up bag.

“Here are house-keys. One for you and one for Titty.  John and Susan left theirs.  I’d remove the one from under the brick, since the house will be left empty for so much of the day. It’s lucky we got Bridget a passport of her own; it would have been a dreadful nuisance if she was still on mine. I don’t want Titty going home after her examination to an empty house. You know how she gets imagining things. Your headmaster has, with very little reluctance, given you permission to go and meet her at the end of the morning to explain the situation. I shall be half-way to London by then.”

“You will wire, won’t you, when you get there safely?”

“I will, and don’t worry; flying is a lot safer than it was.”

With a last hug and a kiss, his mother was gone.

* * *

 

“It’s missing her.” said Titty, as they sat down to eat. “The house is missing her.”

No-one smiled at this piece of whimsy, and in fact, Titty had not intended it to be funny.

“Are you all packed?” asked their father.

“Only tooth brushes to go” replied Bridget more cheerfully. She missed her mother, naturally, but secretly she was rather glad to be heading off for an adventure without her parents, or the all-too-grown-up Susan or John.  She wasn’t even going to pretend to be sorry about a grandfather she had never even seen.

“Tooth brushes you can buy anywhere; it’s the passport that matters above everything. I’m called up to London tomorrow.” Titty and Roger looked up abruptly. Neither was keen on the responsibility of locking up the house for an absence of many weeks. Their father continued, “If I take you up to London with me, straight after Titty’s examination, I can still get to my appointment in time and put you on the sleeper train to Edinburgh. You can get to Arbroath in time for lunch and do your bit getting her ready. The connections won’t be as tight.”

* * *

 

“It’s no use you knocking, they’ve gone away. Went an hour ago. They’ll be away for weeks, the little one told me. Cruising on a boat she said. Telegram is it? The captain, he’s only gone as far as London, he said he might be back tonight or tomorrow.”

* * *

 

WALKER SEABEAR ARBROATH HARBOUR MEET JOHN COPENHAGEN MOST IMPORTANT MOTHER SAFE EN ROUTE KARACHI FATHER

* * *

 

Some telegraph boys have bicycles that actually work and don’t have bent sprockets and constant problems with the chain. He would have got their faster by running, he thought bitterly. He had waved the telegraph in the air as vigorously as he could and shouted his lungs out. The three children on the deck had waved back cheerfully.

 

 


	11. On board the Sea Bear

Peggy, Dorothea and Dick were on deck when the Walkers arrived.

“We got Captain Walker’s telegram.” Peggy said. “I’ve got the lunch ready to start cooking the moment you got here. Mac said we ought to start as soon as we can, while we’ve still got a westerly.”

“Did he say you could call him Mac?” asked Bridget, dubiously.

“All my friends do,” said the man himself cheerfully, coming up the companion way, “and it will be a long voyage if we’re not friends.”

“Can I call you that too?” asked Bridget, “Or is it just the older ones?”

“You can too.” Mac agreed. “And if you’d like to go down into the cabin, my two bairns have been dying to meet you.”

Bridget disappeared down below, followed by Mac.

“I was sorry to hear about your grandfather.” Dorothea said.

“That’s alright,” said Roger, “It’s really only bad for mother. We’ve never met him. He never really approved of Mother marrying Father, so he didn’t even write very often.”

“It’s probably worse for Mother, that we don’t know him.” Titty said, “We can only really imagine what it would feel like for us if it were Daddy.”

“Pretty exciting flying.” said Roger, “It is pity she’ll be too upset to enjoy it. We think she’ll be somewhere between Egypt and India at the moment.”

“Is she flying all the way?” asked Dick.

“We don’t know; if she does, she’ll have to change to the Australian airline in Singapore.” said Roger.

“We think Bridget isn’t completely upset that Mother isn’t with us.” Titty told them. “After all, she was looking after Bridget when we were having our best adventures.”

“What Titty means is that Bridget is so excited she kept bouncing up and down in the sleeping compartment.”

“I’ll go and put the potatoes on.” said Dorothea.

“Mac and I are in the bunks Captain Flint and John used to have.” Dick told Roger, “But I’ll swop with you if you prefer.”

“Does Mac snore worse than John?”

Dick gave this some consideration. “Not as loud, but he snores for longer at a time.”

“Then I’ll put up with the girls, thanks all the same.”

“Just as well we’ll put up with you.” said Peggy.

“We know when we’re not wanted. Come and show me what you’ve been doing with the engine.” said Roger.

“Of course, but how do you know I have been doing anything?”

“I’ve seen Peggy drive and she has no mechanical sympathy.” said Roger, taking care to be out of Peggy’s reach before he said it.

“At least I can drive.” said Peggy.

“Just you wait until next year, Peggy Blackett, you’ll see.” He retorted before following Dick down the fore-hatch.

“Don’t worry, mechanical sympathy is his latest thing.” said Titty, “Everyone lacks it except Roger, apparently”

Peggy laughed. “I’m certainly not worried about Roger being Roger.”

“So what are you worried about?” asked Titty after a short pause.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who doesn’t know you.”

“I’m immensely relieved you’re here, to be honest. Mac knows what he’s doing, but it suddenly occurred to me that I’m the next oldest, and if we are sailing at night, which we will be, he can’t be awake all the time, so it suddenly feels like a lot of responsibility. I’m beginning to think I’ve under-estimated Nancy and John.”

“We’re older than they were when we went to the Hebrides and more experienced. And you’re a good sailor.”

“So are you, which is why I’m especially glad you’re here. One thing is very important – we have to make sure we really know what we’re doing with navigation. We can’t just leave it up to Mac.”

“Have you heard from the others?”

“Yes, I had a letter from Susan on one side and Nancy on the other. It was posted in Denmark. Susan was the most informative.” Peggy was doing very little to suppress a smirk.

“Oh yes?” Titty enquired.

“It seems Dot lent some of those romances she’s so keen on to Nancy, as light holiday reading.”

“Well so they are,” said Titty, “light holiday reading I mean. Quite good books too, I enjoyed the one I read. But, to be honest, I can’t think of any one less likely to read a regency romance than Nancy.”

“Well I can,” said Peggy, “your brother.”

“Not really? He hardly ever reads stories now anyway.”

“Apparently this friend Jim is reading them too.” Peggy said. “But I don’t know if it’s out of character for him.”

Titty considered this. “It probably is.” she said, “If that’s all they’ve got to write about, things must be going very smoothly.”

Peggy stood up and stretched. “Let’s go and see what’s happening below.” she suggested. “The Baby Macs were excited before Bridget arrived; both are determined to be her very best friend.  Heavens knows what all three together will be like.”

* * *

 

Dorothea thought again how much she had taken Susan and Peggy for granted went she was younger. Cooking in such a small galley was hard work, and she had already discovered that she could not afford to let her mind wander. She remembered asking Susan once why she did it and did not insist on the others taking more of a turn.

“There is something special about cooking for a large family.” Susan had said. “Every meal you produce is an achievement, a job completed. The more difficult the circumstances are, the bigger the achievement is.”

Dorothea understood now, really for the first time exactly what Susan had meant by that. She would never be as accomplished a sailor as Peggy or Titty. She would never understand how Roger could know what an engine was feeling and coax the best out of it. (Roger had laughed when she said that once, but then agreed that, yes, that was exactly how it felt.) Watching the whole crew and the skipper eat Arbroath Smokies, new potatoes and peas, Dorothea felt that at last she had a job to do which she could tackle successfully. She would make mistakes, of course, and she would probably have to ask Peggy’s advice at some point, but she was confident that at the end of the voyage, Sea Bears crew would be well fed and as healthy as she could make them.

She surveyed her large family from her place at the end of the table.

Titty looked a little bit pale, but then she was worrying about her mother and had been worrying about her examinations. Taller and thinner than either of her sisters, it really did not take much to make Titty look drawn.  Roger was slightly taller than Dick now, and was joking and teasing with the younger ones. Peggy was unusually quiet; Dorothea supposed the responsibility of being the oldest (second oldest if you counted Mac) was bothering her. Bridget, her pigtails now as long as Dorothea’s own, was bouncy and cheerful, chattering to Colin “Mac” with his cherubic dimples and blond hair with its tendency to curl. Mac himself had similar dimples and curls, but his hair was black and his face was already becoming tanned. He was a short compact man and, as Dorothea had already seen when thet were warping the ship round in her berth, he was very strong. Dick was still looking a little peaky, but Dorothea knew from experience that another day of fresh-air was all it would take to undo the effects for hours in the labs and library. No, the only one of the crew whose appearance worried Dorothea was Elspeth. She was a thin child, with brown hair and a sallow skin. Her dark eyes were surveying the crew as carefully as Dorothea’s, but showed much less satisfaction. She said little and slipped some of her potatoes on to her father’s plate as unobtrusively as she could.

Mac was talking.

“We’ll have three watches.” he said, “while we are sailing to the survey area. One watch will be mine, one will be Peggy’s. Which of you four is the best helmsman and navigator?”

“Dick probably could navigate best; he’s got the best brain for that sort of thing.” said Titty.

“Titty’s probably the best all round sailor and best helmsman. Helmswoman” said Dick,

“Roger’s best with the engine.” said Titty.

“Well you can’t take charge of a watch from the engine room.” Said Mac, “and Dorothea can’t be in charge of a watch and a galley at the same time. Titty’s watch will consist of Dick and Elspeth. Peggy will have Roger and Bridget. Dorothea and Colin are on my watch. But I’m the sort of skipper who had rather be woken than not woken, bear that in mind.”

“Aye, aye sir.” said Peggy and Titty almost in unison.

“Why don’t you just say yes?” asked Elspeth scornfully.

“Good discipline.” retorted Bridget, “Don’t you know ..”

“Belay there, my watch.” said Peggy swiftly.

Bridget took a breath and Dorothea could see her begin to gather herself for argument before she quickly realised that there was only one thing she could say without undermining her own position.

“Aye, aye sir.” Bridget said cheerfully to Peggy.

“My watch, put those plates into soak and wedge them in somewhere good and safe. All hands on deck to make sail. Peggy, have your engineer stand by just in case.” Said Mac.

* * *

 

“We turned her round this morning with warps.” Said Dick to Titty as they stood by to hoist he mainsail. Mac had the helm and Peggy stood by ready to cast off the last warp. “Pretty lucky it’s an off-shore wind, really.”

Once they were well clear of the stone jetty the “ship’s children” as Roger called them (to their apparent indignation), brought in the fenders and Titty and Dick hoisted the jib. They were already moving quickly away from the shore when Bridget noticed a boy on a bicycle waving at them.

“Let’s wave back,” Colin said. “I bet he wishes he was us.”

“It’s not his fault he’s not.” said Bridget. 


	12. Journey

It really wasn’t the right time to say anything, John told himself. Travelling on a journey you had planned was completely different from an unplanned journey. They spent so much time looking at scratched time-tables on notice boards, while other people jostled them. They had to listen out for announcements where cities were pronounced completely differently from the way they expected, and in any case had totally a different name from they knew. Some trains required a supplement for expresses, some had to be booked in advance. Sometimes it seemed cheaper to buy through tickets, sometimes tickets for different sections. They had thought that it would be best and shortest to skirt the coast and go via Gdansk, Rostock and Hamburg, but tickets to Gdansk seemed unobtainable, although Nancy asked both for tickets to Gdansk and then to Danzig. Possibly it was one of those journey one had to book for. Waits on windy platforms were interspersed with frantic rushes from one platform to another and stuffy, jolting journeys in crowded carriages. Sometimes platforms were short and trains were long, and they had one desperate scramble forward through a crowded corridor when Nancy’s neighbour, a cheerful Latvian lady with whom they shared not one word in common, had indicated to her that this was indeed their stop. They didn’t dare sleep that first night on the train although somewhere a little before dawn, sounds had become distorted, becoming strangely muffled one moment and glaringly loud and somehow distorted the next. Nancy did most of the talking and reading timetables and found that French sometimes served as well as English did.   
“Which is to say,” she remarked, “it serves very badly. It would be quite helpful to speak Russian,”  
“But badly enough so that no-one actually thinks you are Russian.” John suggested.  
“I don’t think doing it badly would be a problem.”  
John clutched their single suitcase and kept watching Nancy’s back as she looked at timetables and talked to clerks at ticket windows. The message itself had been concealed by Susan, sewn carefully into Nancy’s garments. John was not exactly sure where it was and was certainly was not going to ask. It was, Susan assured him, quite safe from pickpockets. John was more worried about their money and especially, their passports. Still they had done well, John thought, to get to Warsaw not very much longer than twenty-four hours after leaving Riga.   
“We’re going to get into a fearful pickle if we try to do this next bit in short hops.” said Nancy. “Let’s just get the cheapest seat we can on this overnight train to Berlin. We can probably get a couple of hours’ sleep each and it will be daylight by the time we get there.”  
The idea of any sleep at all sounded wonderful. He understood now why his training officers had insisted so fiercely that crews should not be kept at action stations for too long. It was one thing to be told this in a classroom and quite another to experience it. He wouldn’t trust himself in charge of a rowing boat right now. Of course, they had started their journey already short on sleep, insistent that Susan and Jim should get as much rest as possible before having to sail Goblin back to Denmark alone.  
“There might be less checking once we are on the train, probably just at the border.” John agreed. “Does the train stop in Berlin?”  
“I think it does.” she replied, “and I think we may have to change stations in Berlin before we get the next train. Any ideas where we should head for after that?”  
“I’m not sure which would be fastest,” he said, “but I’d give quite a lot to be in France or Belgium or the Netherlands right now. Ostend, Hook of Holland, Calais, any of them would do.”   
“Do we have any francs?” Nancy asked him. They had nearly the whole of the ships supply of foreign currency with them, leaving only the Danish and Swedish money with Goblin.   
“No, but we can buy some if we have to. Let’s change the currencies we don’t need now.”  
“It might be an idea to find out how much the tickets are first; we don’t want to change money into Zlotys and then into Reichsmarks and so forth. We would lose a bit on each change.” She suggested.   
The Polish money was enough to buy the tickets to Berlin and leave enough over for soup, dumplings and some coffee. The dumplings, turned out to be sweet with jam sauce. Both of them had somehow imagined that they would be savoury and probably served with the soup. They ate in hungry silence and when they had finished, John had to admit he felt considerably more alert.   
“We will probably be too early in Berlin to find anything to eat.” said Nancy. “Is there anything left of the food Susan packed for us?”  
John opened the suitcase a crack and peered inside. “Only the marmalade sandwiches, and some chocolate.” he reported. “We ate the last of the hard boiled eggs at lunchtime.”  
“She did us jolly well considering we didn’t have time to buy anything in Riga.” Nancy pointed out fairly.  
“Some of the marmalade has escaped and got onto your pyjamas.” He told her.   
“So long as the fluff hasn’t got onto the sandwiches. Even if it has, we’ll probably be hungry enough to eat them.” She pointed out.  
“It’s the being awake for so long at the time.” John said. “I suppose we need the extra energy. I don’t know why Susan packed pyjamas anyway.”  
“I suppose she thought it would look suspicious not to have them with us.” Nancy suggested. “It just seems bizarre to be wandering around Europe, with a suitcase containing pyjamas we can’t wear and marmalade sandwiches.”  
“Something to tell the grandchildren.” he said lightly, and as they had arrived at the ticket barrier.  
They had to show their passports as well as their tickets and find the correct carriage. As they walked past the sleeper carriages, they saw other passenger surrendering their passports to conductors. However, somewhat to their relief, they found that those passengers who would spend the night sitting up were expected to keep their passport.   
“Maybe they herd us out onto a platform at a station near the border.” John suggested.  
“People wouldn’t be too keen on standing around on a platform in their pyjamas.” Nancy agreed. Somehow the word pyjamas had become irresistibly funny and they both giggled. Eventually, they found a compartment with two seats. John was asleep before the train had pulled out of the station. Nancy wondered if he had meant his grandchildren, her grandchildren or their grandchildren. Perhaps he just meant it as a figure of speech. They were well out into the suburbs before Nancy admitted to herself that she really hoped he meant their grandchildren. She struggled to keep awake while John slept and after drifting off twice, woke him an hour after midnight.  
“I’m sorry,” she said, “But I just can’t stay awake any longer.”  
“You should have woken me earlier.” he said, still sounding half asleep, ”Remember, I’m used to sleeping with the light on. It’s always on in the snotties’ flat.”  
“Shh.” She replied,” no work-talk, remember.” She hoped she sounded like a nagging girlfriend or sister, not someone trying to keep a secret.   
“Shh,” said some-one else in the compartment.  
“Have a shoulder.” John offered in a whisper, and put his arm around her.   
Nancy had been asleep for a few hours before they reached the border.   
There were two border guards. The Polish one merely asked to see inside the suitcase and gave a cursory glance at their passports. The train moved forward and Nancy had settled back on to John’s shoulder when the German border guard entered the compartment.  
“Heil Hitler!”  
“Heil Hitler! Heil Hitler! Good morning! Heil Hitler! ”   
“Stay asleep, my dear and let me deal with this.” John’s voice murmured softly.  
“Stay alert, but don’t let on.” said his hand press firmly against her arm.  
“Reisepasse bitte!”  
She felt John reach into his jacket pocket awkwardly with his free hand.   
“Warum sind Sie zusammen reisen? Sie sind nicht verheiratat.”  
“Ich hoffe, dass wir bald heiraten. Sie mochte nicht heiraten, ohne ihre Mutter. Wir gehen nach ihre Hause.”  
Something about her mother? His mother? she thought. Whatever it was, it had satisfied the guard.  
She slept again, and did not wake until they were both shaken awake by a kindly fellow passenger in the station in Berlin. John was very shame-faced about this, but since they found that they both still had money and passports, it did not seem to greatly matter. Now it was John’s turn to ask for directions and they discovered that they would have to go to another station to catch a train to France or Belgium.   
“It’s about the same in London, really.” Nancy pointed out.  
They stopped at the only stall open at that early hour to buy a city map, since John had been unable to follow the directions they had given him at the ticket window. Nancy noticed a man staring at them. We must look pretty dishevelled, she thought, but there’s nothing to connect us with Tallinn or Helsinki. The best thing is to act normally. She whispered to John. They hurried along. Somehow the wild mood they had experienced in Tallinn had returned, and with it the conviction that they could cope with anything, if they kept their heads. The man kept up. They stopped to look at the map for some time. The man did a little window shopping. They crossed the road. He crossed the road. They were approaching a tram stop which already had a queue.  
“It’s a pity they’re all so orderly.” muttered Nancy. “A bit of jostling would suit us very well just now.”   
A group of four or five young women hurried up behind them, coming between them and their follower.   
“Try the tram.” John whispered in her ear.  
They joined the queue and, when the tram arrived, paid the same fare as the people directly in front of them. They sat down about half way down the tram. John immediately stood up to offer his seat to the women behind them on the queue, with a certain amount of extra hat-lifting and polite bowing that set the girls giggling and they clustered around their friend, evidently about to tease her. This left a seat free for the man who was following them. By this time, Nancy had quietly worked her way down the rear of the tram. As soon as she had seen the second door at the back of the tram, facing the traffic, she had an inkling of what John planned. Of course, she thought, it will be the pavement side of the tram and at the front when the tram goes in the other direction.  
When the conductor tinged the bell and the tram started to more they jumped of the back and dashed across the street. Neither of them dared look back to see if their follower had managed to get off the tram in time, they were too busy dodging cars and a horse-drawn dray. Nancy, indeed, dodged under the belly of the startled horse, being slightly slower than John, who had dashed in front of its nose, forcing it to pull up abruptly. They hurtled down the narrow side street which was little more than an alley way. There was a cluster of large dustbins, plainly intended for a block of flats. They ducked behind them.  
“Not another dead end?” John whispered in her ear.  
“I quite enjoy them.” She whispered back.  
“So do I” He kissed her briefly and quite ruthlessly. “I don’t think this is one though.” He pointed to iron fire escape some yards beyond them. “If we can get up that before company arrives, we could hide on the roof. A lot of buildings like this have parapet affairs on top to make them look bigger from the front.”  
It seemed to Nancy a slim chance, but still possessed by wildness, they dashed up the staircase, Nancy in the lead. All went well for three floors, then a door opened inwards as she passed it; a hand seized her arm and she was pulled inside.


	13. Anna, Jan and David

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Although my German might just stretch to the same extent as John’s, it does not extend any further. I have therefore had to use Google translate for some of the dialogue, and then add in a few mistakes if John is speaking. For this chapter and for the rest of the story, if I don’t translate the German, the viewpoint is with someone who does not understand it, in this case, Nancy. If I have expressed German dialogue in English, it is being translated mentally into English by someone who does understand (although perhaps not completely) and we are probably seeing things from John’s viewpoint. Please imagine umlauts in the correct positions.

“Treten Sie in! Treten sie in!” came a hoarse whisper.  
Nancy stumbled as her arm was released, unable to see the floor clearly until her eyes adjusted from the bright morning sunlight to the dim interior.  
“Verbergen Sie unter dem Bett!”  
John barrelled into the room after her. Their host pointed to the other side of the room, and John flopped down on his stomach and started to wriggle under the double bed which was against the far wall of the room.   
“Vielen Dank!” He gasped as he wriggled. It was a tight fit.  
“Danke schon!”Nancy knew that much German at least.  
“Schnell, schnell!” urged their rescuer as Nancy started to wriggle after John. They could hear the fire-escape door being bolted after them.  
She was nearly under the bed when she remembered. “The suitcase!” She had seen John fling it to the floor.  
“Der Koffer.” translated John, hastily. “Verbergen das Koffer, bitte! Sie konnen die Dinge nehmen, Sie sind nur pyjamas.”  
They heard the pyjamas hastily flung on the bed, which had not yet been made, with a muttered exclamation.  
“It’s only marmalade.” explained Nancy, “We’re awfully sorry about it.”  
“Es tut uns lied.” John supplemented.  
The suitcase was hastily pushed under the bed after Nancy, and a pair of shoes and couple of cardboard boxes, which seemed to contain papers, were added.  
They heard someone with bare feet enter the room. A woman’s voice said quietly, “Der dumme SA Mann, wer er ist Spion denkt, kommt.”  
“Dumm ist immer noch gefahrlich! Alle Nazi sind gefahrlich!” said their host.  
“Ich weiss dass zu gut!” she replied.  
“Sie sind Englische, denke ich.” their rescuer said.  
Her voice sounded closer. She was bending over the bed.  
“You must stay quiet,” she said, “We will help you.”  
“Thank you!” they said whispered in chorus.  
“shh!” came the reply.  
“Offen Sie die Tur, Offen Sie die Tur, ihr Juden.”  
Nancy and John heard the door open, more raised voices, a door elsewhere in the flat slammed open and slammed shut again. A baby wailed – a thin, despairing sound. Heavy, booted feet entered the room. The bedclothes were flung about, and someone heavy sat on the bed and grunted with the effort of peering under it.  
“Haben Sie einen Mopp? Bringen Sie es hier!  
The handle of a wooden mop was poked about vigorously and painfully under the bed. Nancy gritted her teeth and made no sound. Eventually, another grunt was heard and the man stood up again.   
“Was ist das? Was ist das an meiner Hose?”  
“Nur einbisschen Marmalade. Ich kann abwischen ganz einfach.”  
“Fass mich nicht an!” they heard a slap or punch – very hard and quite unmistakable. Nancy felt John tense and begin to move next to her. She gripped the only part of him she could reach, which was his elbow, in warning and was relieved that he stayed still. If they were found, she knew things would be at least as bad for their rescuers as it would be for them and probably worse. The heavy boots marched off. A door slammed.  
The bare feet came back into the room.  
“Stay there for a little while.” she whispered in English. “Here is some water for you.” A tea-cup full of water was pushed under the bed. Both of them drank gratefully but with some difficulty and wriggled around a little.   
“I must lie down on the bed.” The voice continued. “It is not so long since my baby was born. Also, one of the neighbours is very kind. She will come to see if we have been harmed. The Nazis took her husband away. It was four years ago. He was a Christian pastor. He was one who said, “No the Nazis will not tell me what to say in die Kirche.” They took him away. Then he came back, but he was broken. He would not say what they had done to him. Then, they sometimes they took people away and sent them back. I think it was to make everyone have much fear. Now, no-one comes back. And Jews, they never send Jews back. Then the pastor died. His wife, she died a little bit too, I think, inside. She is the one only who is kind to us. The others here, they hate us because we are Jews, or because they have fear. She says she has no fear, because they have taken her husband and they cannot hurt her any more. She came and helped me when the baby came. No one else came to help. She does not remember things so well now. Sometimes she forgets. It is before the Nazis sometimes in her mind. She came to me once and said, “Anna, why are there so many men in brown uniforms? Why is there marching in the street?” She remembers too when my mother was alive and lived here with us. She asks “How is your mother today?” And then she remembers and is very sad. My mother was ill for a long time. We had to stay with her. When she died, then it was too late for us to go. They took the money, but then they did not give us the exit visa. Perhaps, I am talking too much. But it is good to talk about this, sometimes. It is good to talk English, sometimes. I have not practiced English speaking for two, three years.”  
“You speak it very well,” said Nancy. “Did you learn it in school?”  
“Yes, it was my favourite subject. I liked English and French best. I wanted to be a teacher, to teach languages, but then the Nazis came and said Jews could not teach Aryan people. Also I had to leave school earlier. My husband is a doctor, but he is not allowed to work as a doctor. But I must listen in English as well as speak it. Do not tell me what is dangerous, but tell me something about yourselves. But if my neighbour comes, we must stop at once. She might forget you are secret.”  
There was a quiet pause.   
Nancy began, “My name is Ruth and my friend is called John. He has three sisters and a brother and I have one sister. We have been friends since we were children. We used to spend our summer holidays together sailing about the lake in dinghies.”  
“A dinghy?”  
“A very small boat. You have been very kind to us, you and your husband; you saved our lives at great risk to yourselves. Is there anything we can do for you? Anyway we can help you? We have not much money, but it might be enough for train tickets to somewhere safer. Belgium maybe or Holland?” asked Nancy.  
“Perhaps those places are safer. Perhaps once they would have let us go if a British witness was there. But now there must be exit visas.” Anna replied.  
A knock came at the door.  
“This is my neighbour.”   
The conversation that followed was, of course, all in German, and Nancy could follow none of it. When the neighbour had gone, Anna had told them it was safe to come out. Nancy wondered what had been said. John’s face was gave nothing away but he glanced very briefly at Nancy and gave an almost imperceptible nod. He seemed to be willing Nancy to speak for them both. Anna was holding the baby who was very small and appeared to be regarding them solemnly.   
“Meet my son.” she said, “He is only two weeks old. Would you like to hold him while I heat up some soup?  
John started to hold out his arms, but found that the invitation was intended for Nancy, who held the baby gingerly but properly, supporting the baby’s head.  
“What is his name?” she asked.  
“David.”  
“Hello, David.” said Nancy softly.  
“Is this the first time you have held a baby?” asked Anna.   
“Very nearly.” Nancy said.  
David yawned and John immediately yawned too.  
“You have not had much sleep?” Anna asked.  
“John has been awake for most of the last two nights. We have travelled from Riga by train.” said Nancy  
“May I ask, where are you going? Or is this not safe to say?”  
“London first,” said Nancy, “and then we are going to my home, in the North of England.”  
“We really should go,” said John, “you have been very kind to us, and we are very grateful, but every minute we are here we are putting you in more danger.”   
“And if there is anything we can do to help you, please tell us.” Nancy added.  
“I think an idea is beginning.” said Anna, “but I will speak of it first only to my husband. Perhaps he does not like it. I do not like it, but I think it is the only way. Please, John, pull the covers over the bed so and try to sleep. Ruth will come and talk with me while I feed David in the kitchen.”  
John made the bed and then lay down on top of the covers. He fell asleep almost immediately. He woke with Nancy’s fingers cool against his cheek.  
“Wake up!” she said. “Jan, Anna’s husband has come home. He’ll take us to the station to catch a train to the Netherlands, but we mustn’t be seen together. He’ll walk along behind us or in front of us. But they have a favour to ask us and they want to ask us about it together. I think it’s a very big one and they half expect us to say no. We won’t, of course.” she looked at John with pleading eyes. He sat up and put an arm around her shoulders.   
“We won’t say no.” he agreed. “And it won’t be a favour; it will be a small part of what we owe them. I don’t want to put you in any more danger. Up until now, I was fairly sure that I was the one running any serious risk.”   
She shook her head, lips pressed together. Her shoulders shook slightly. Then she whispered very closely, and somewhat distractingly, in his ear.  
“There is no way that message could be where is without me knowing about it.”  
“Maybe I should be the one carrying..”  
She laid a finger on his lips.  
“We do things together. We’re friends. And I did know the risks, if I’d thought about what I heard at Aunt Helen’s. Anyhow, why should I sit at home and let other people keep me safe?” She stood up. “We’re wanted in the kitchen.”  
They sat around the table, eating vegetable soup. Both Anna and Jan had evidently been weeping and whatever it was, it was so painful they could hardly speak of it. Eventually, Jan started.   
“I have a brother,” he said, “who lives in London. We have the same father but different mothers. He is many years older than I. He married an English girl and they have three children. Only the youngest is still at school. My brother went to London before the Nazis came. For him, things have gone well. When he heard that Anna’s mother had died, he said “come and stay with us until you have work”, but by that time it was too late to get an exit visa. He is a good brother and was always very kind to me. He asked again when he heard we were expecting a baby, “come and stay.” He paused. John translated as well as he could for Nancy, looking at Anna to see if he had understood correctly. It seemed he had.   
Jan continued. “A tiny baby must be cared for, cannot run, cannot hide, cannot live out-of-doors. You cannot say “hide here, do not make a sound” to a baby. Anna is now still too weak to run and hide. Later perhaps. But you are here now and you must go tonight. It is not safe to stay longer. We will help you. If you say yes, we will help you. If you say no, we will help you. We ask you, will you take our baby to my brother’s house? Will you take him to London with you? He is so small we think they will not say “Where is his passport?” They will think he is your baby.” He paused again for John to translate, which he did, glad that Jan had kept the words and the sentences so simple. Tears were flowing freely down Anna’s face.   
As soon as she had heard enough to understand, Nancy leapt to her feet and went round the table to hug Anna.  
“Of course we’ll look after David and take him to London,” she said. “We’ll take the greatest care of him, and wire to let you know when He is safely there.”   
The next couple of hours were busy ones. Jan went and bought powdered baby milk and bottles. John cut up Nancy’s pyjamas as well as his own to make extra nappies, putting the spare buttons in Anna’s sewing box. Together, John and Anna checked the instructions on the powdered milk. Anna was surprised to find that John was quite expert in making up baby bottles.   
“I used to make up bottles for my littlest sister and my brother, sometimes.” he explained, “It was a big treat and a reward for being well-behaved. My next oldest sister was a better behaved child than I was, so she did it more often. Roger is only five years younger than me, so we didn’t boil the water ourselves. By the time Bridget was born I was allowed to use a kettle.”  
They boiled and cooled some more water and filled two screw topped bottles. They wouldn’t fit into the suitcase, which was full of David’s clothes and all the nappies, so they put them in a string bag. Anna was troubled about how they would warm the milk. John and Nancy had left both thermos flasks on the Goblin.   
“It only has to be body temperature.” Nancy pointed out. “We just make up the bottle, and then warm it against our skin.”  
These practicalities were the relatively cheerful part of the preparations. Nancy insisted on giving the Beckfoot address and telephone number to Anna and Jan, as well as her Aunt Helen’s address and John’s parents’ address, carefully describing them as Mr and Mrs Walker. She had written the address of Jan’s brother in three separate places and had committed it to memory. She was equally insistent on copying down as much information as possible about Anna and Jan and asked if they had a photograph with them both on it. All four of them knew that she was preparing for the possibility that David might never see his parents again. John was grateful that she had raised these points and could see that Anna and Jan felt the same. He supposed that she would know how it felt to lose a parent and what questions David might want to ask later. He watched Nancy wander about the flat, looking at everything as if she was trying to commit it to memory. None of the Swallows had ever asked the Amazons about their father, at least not to John’s knowledge. He suspected that Susan and Peggy discussed a great deal that they kept to themselves. Nancy squared her shoulders and turned to face Anna and Jan who were sitting together on the edge of the bed.  
“Just in case,” she said, looking to John for translation, “if something happens to your brother and his family, or..” she could not bring herself to say it. “We would look after him of course, and Beckfoot is a lovely place to grow up, but I wondered..” She trailed off again. John had never seen Nancy so at loss for words and had none himself to offer. Anna had plainly grasped her meaning and spoke urgently to Jan. After a brief discussion, she turned back to Nancy.   
“Ruth,” she said, “My husband asks something I had not thought to ask. Are you perhaps of our religion?”  
Nancy shook her head. “No, I’m a Christian. My father’s family were non-conformists, which is why he liked Biblical names.”  
There was a further rapid discussion which John could not follow.  
“We would prefer David to be brought up in a Jewish family, but if that cannot be, we are sure that yours will be the best possible other family for him.” Anna said gravely, encompassing both of them with a look.  
“Anyway,” said Nancy, “there is a good chance you will be in England yourselves and looking after him before he is old enough to remember anything.”  
Jan spoke again.   
“It is time to say goodbye.” he said. “But first….” He looked at Anna. “We are not allowed jewellery, now, except our wedding rings. Take our wedding rings to my brother. We hope he will not have to sell them. But if he must sell them to feed the children, then he must sell them.”  
“You must wear them.” said Anna, “That will be the best way to keep them safe.”   
Anna’s ring was too tight for Nancy’s right hand but just fitted on her left. John explained that this in any case was the hand on which an Englishwoman would wear her wedding ring.They had to tie Jan’s ring around John’s neck with string in the end.   
Neither John nor Nancy ever spoke of that parting or the walk to the station to anyone, not even each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are people who offer help to total strangers, without regard for nationality, creed, race, name, age or any other grouping and without looking for any reward. This chapter is dedicated to them in respectful gratitude, whenever and wherever they live or have lived.


	14. Travelling with a Baby

****

Trains seem a lot less crowded when you have a fretful baby with you. Only three people came and sat down in the same compartment, and one of those quickly moved elsewhere

“He might be a bit calmer if you didn’t keep checking his hands and feet every five minutes.” said John after the first hour. “Why are you doing it anyway?”

“I just want to be sure that his circulation is alright. His feet and hands seem quite cold, although they look pink enough.”

“Babies do have cold feet and hands – I don’t know why – they just do.”

They were silent for a while. The man in the corner opposite them took a small grease-proof paper parcel out of his brief-case and began to eat a sausage sandwich with gusto. John suspected the noises his stomach was making were audible to everyone in the compartment. Nancy had left all the chocolate with Anna and Jan. The thin-lipped man in the other corner gave an audible and disapproving sniff and glared at his compatriot. The golden evening sunlight sent strange bars of light and shade flickering across the compartment and picked out motes of dust.

“What were they like?” Nancy asked suddenly.

“Who?”

“The others – well – Titty and Roger and Bridget as babies. I don’t suppose you can remember Susan being born any more than I can remember Peggy.”

“I remember Susan and I taking Titty out of her cot to play with her. We’d made a house under the dining room table. Susan dropped her, luckily not very far. We both got sent to bed, which seemed to me to be very unjust at the time. I said it was unfair and tried to put all the blame on Susan and had an extra hour in bed for my pains. I suppose I was being a little beast really, because I was the one who actually lifted her from the cot. I can’t remember Titty as a baby a great deal to be honest.”

“And Roger? A noisy baby?”

“No, strangely. Everyone kept saying he was quieter than I had been. Promise you won’t tell anyone this, especially Roger?”

“Promise.”

“I used to make up lullabies and sing them to him. Although when I say lullabies, the words actually didn’t mean very much. I thought having them rhyme was the most important thing.”

She smiled at him, but it was an affectionate smile. She moved a little closer, almost snuggling into his side. She might just be playing the affectionate wife and mother. He hoped she wasn’t. David was now sleeping peacefully.

“So what were you and Peggy like as little girls?”

“Lonely, but lonely together. There were no other children to play with on our side of the lake except Jackie. When he started to go to school he wanted to play with other boys and not us. They didn’t send us away to school until Peggy was old enough to go too. Our nurse was a very keen chapel-goer; she still is. She used to take us to Sunday school with her as often as it was allowed. Apart from that, Mother used to give us lessons. Meeting you Swallows was the best thing that ever happened to either of us.” She smiled at him again. “Especially me.”

“Meeting you was the very best thing that happen to me too, Na, err, Ruth.”

“You’re tired, love.” she said, and this time the endearment, although obviously deliberate, was also said naturally.

“You’ve had less sleep than I have.” he said, “Let me hold the baby for a bit.”

“I think I probably ought to change him first, or as least check to see.”

“I would delay that as long as possible.”

“Why?”

“Well in the first place, what are we going to do with a wet nappy?”

“Good point, and the second point?”

“He’s asleep. And so should you be.”

Abruptly, Nancy gave in, handed the baby to him and settled herself as comfortably as she could against his shoulder. It was not long until her breathing deepened.

The man opposite nodded at him.

“She is obedient. You are a fortunate fellow.” He said in German.

So that was what feeling your blood boil felt like, thought John.

“I am indeed fortunate.” he replied evenly, also in German.

He wondered what picture they represented. When they had arrived at the station, Jan had given their prearranged signal for “You are not being followed.” Of course, that only meant that Jan had not noticed them being followed. Still, Jan was evidently an intelligent chap and, perhaps more to the point, was observant and quick thinking.

John suddenly remembered a moment in the summer that the Callums first got the _Scarab._ Dick had capsized _Scarab_ over an especially deep part of the lake. John had really not been expecting it- in fact it was the only time Dick had made any major mistake in his handling of the little dinghy. While they were still swimming about _Scarab_ and John was thinking about how they would have to right her, Dick had cheerfully remarked, “It doesn’t matter how deep it is; we still only swim on the surface.” John had become suddenly aware of the many feet of water below them and the narrow limits of his own competence. He felt like that now. They had been splashing around on the surface, wilfully ignoring the depths beneath them. He had been cheerfully using a few facts, a few quickly taught tricks and behaving as if he knew what he was doing. Perhaps Dick had the right idea. As long as you were still swimming, it might not matter how deep the trouble was.

 He wondered how things were going on the _Sea bear_. All being well, they would have crossed the North Sea now. They might even be waiting for the _Goblin_ in Copenhagen. Susan had been told what to say to their mother and the rest of the sea-bears. A sick man wishing to get home as soon as possible, too ill to travel by train, some urgent business papers to be carried, poor Mr. Cavendish would lose his job if the papers did not arrive on time. No mention of events in Tallinn or Helsinki. John had merely met a sick compatriot in Helsinki and offered their aid.

Somewhere between Brunswick and Hanover, David started crying again. Nancy held him while the John made up the bottle and warmed it in his hands. They were watched with interest by the men on the opposite seat. Nancy’s hands seemed very cold when he handed the baby to her, but she stoutly maintained she was fine. David fell asleep with the bottle in his mouth.

“He hasn’t had much.” whispered John doubtfully.

“He’s only a very small baby. I bet Roger and Bridget were bigger before your mother let you feed them.”

“I wonder how long we can keep the milk made up like that?”

“Maybe an hour? Two hours?” Nancy suggested “He might wake up again if he’s still hungry.”

“I wonder if he can tell that we’re not..”

“Very experienced parents, with him being our first.” Nancy cut in quickly, “And of course, being tired, we are sure to make more mistakes. Your turn to sleep, my love.”

* * *

 

He was woke up slowly sometime after and gradually became aware that Nancy was racked with silent sobs beside him, although she had moved a little away from him. It was still dark outside.

“Nancy, what’s the matter?” He put his arm around her. He glanced around and saw that the compartment was empty. They must be past Hanover then. The two German men had definitely told the ticket inspector that they were getting off at Hanover.  “What’s the matter? Tell me.” He looked down at David, whom she still cradled in her arms. The baby was awake but not crying, although he blinked at the lights on his face as they passed through what was probably a goods’ yard. The lights flickered on the tears streaked down Nancy’s face. He had never seen anyone this upset, not even Titty.  He tried again, “Nancy, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He was not even sure if she heard him. Was she awake? Had she somehow fallen asleep with her eyes open and was in the grip of some terrible nightmare?

 “Shh, you’re safe.  I’m here. It’s alright. It’s all going to be alright. I’m here, I’ll look after you. It’s going to be alright.” He held her as close as he could with David still in her arms and stroked her hair.

Gradually the shaking subsided into occasional hiccupping sobs.

“Do you think you can tell me what’s upsetting you so much?” He murmured into her hair. Even as he said it, he realised it was a silly thing to say. Hadn’t today’s events been upsetting enough?

“I’m scared.” she whispered. “I’m scared that I’ll look down and find I’m holding a dead baby.”

“He’s fine,” John reassured her. “What happened to make you think that? He’s quite fine.”

“Because, because once … It happened a long time ago.”

“Tell me.”

Nancy heaved a long shuddering sigh. He wondered if she would say anything at all, and then she began, picking her words carefully.

“It was just after Daddy died. He died of the ‘flu. He died the day Tom was born. I had a little brother, just briefly, just for a day or two. Mother was ill, of course, and I think Nurse had the ‘flu as well. I think I was ill too; I know I hurt all over. Daddy had said I was to look after the others. I woke up in the night and went and looked at Peggy, and she was alright, so I went and looked in the nursery. That’s the room that’s Uncle Jim’s room now. I could see the covers were sort of over Tom’s face and I thought it would be bad for him, so I lifted him out and held him. He was very cold and seemed sort of stiff and I couldn’t make him warmer. There was a little low chair, and I sat in it and held him. Eventually someone came; I can’t remember who it was, not Mother anyway. She took Tom from me and put him back in the cradle and told me he was dead and that I must go back to bed and never, ever tell Mother that I had even been in the room. She said she wasn’t cross with me and I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I mustn’t tell Mother.  I could tell she was horrified, even though she didn’t say so. I went to back to bed. Of course I didn’t tell anyone, and no-one ever mentioned it to me.”

John gently took David from her arms and settled the baby against his left shoulder before holding Nancy as close as he could. She began to cry again, but this time it seemed to be in relief.

The compartment door slide open and the ticket inspector peered around the door.

“My wife is just the same after every baby,” he remarked, “and after every baby she says no more children. But a year later she again agrees that we must give another baby to the Fatherland. We have four.” He added with pride.

“Congratulations.” replied John cheerfully. A wave of anger swept over him. He felt Nancy’s hand under his jacket, grip the front of his shirt in warning.

“The train stops for ten minutes in Osnabruck.” the ticket inspector continued. “That might be a good time for your wife des Kindes Windel wechslen.” He saw John’s puzzled look and helpfully held his nose before pointing to the baby.

John nodded comprehension. “Thank you.”

The door to the compartment slide shut again. A moment later, Nancy lifted her face from John’s chest. One of his shirt buttons had made a slight indentation in her cheek.

“He sounded as though he was trying to be helpful, but he made you angry?” she queried.

“Did I sound angry?” he asked in quick alarm.

“No, you sounded perfect.” Nancy reassured him. “I could _feel_ that you were angry. What did he say to make you so furious?”

“Proudly informed me that he was the father of four children.” came the bitter reply in an undertone.

She raised her eyebrows. “John, you are one of _five_.”

“I know. It wasn’t the number; it was the way he spoke of his wife. A baby machine for the Fatherland.”  He gave her a wry smile before continuing, “He also said that the train will stop for ten minutes in Osnabruck and it would be a good time to change the baby. Try not to let anyone get a good look at David while you do it.”

“Why?”

Even in a closed compartment it seemed safer to whisper. “He’s Jewish and I’m assuming he is old enough to have been circumcised.”

“Oh.”

Anything else Nancy might have said, was to John’s intense relief, cut short as David decided that he was hungry again.

Nancy slept again for a few hours, lying on the seat vacated by the two German men with John’s raincoat over her, but woke quickly when they reached Osnabruck. Dawn was beginning to lighten the sky but the sun had not yet fully risen. Nancy dashed to the ladies room with David and the suitcase. John managed to buy four of the bread rolls being delivered to the station buffet which was not yet open. He received the distinct impression that the buffet manager wanted to remove such a dishevelled individual from his tidy personal empire. John resumed his post outside the ladies room.

 Nancy popped her head outside the door handed David to him and whispered, “If a ten-year old girl comes out, look to see who she’s with.” before disappearing back inside. Sure enough a girl of about ten came out a few seconds later and joined her mother and three younger sisters further down the platform. Less than a minute after that Nancy shot out of the ladies room again, hands still wet, and they scrambled back onto the train.

“Mother, three younger sisters, strong family resemblance.” John reported quietly.

“No sign of a younger brother?”

“None, not unless he’s the one on the way.”

“Good.”

“Why does it matter?”

“There was a sort of wooden bench thing, so I put David on that to change him. Both the cubicles were occupied and I didn’t dare wait. The girl came out of the cubicle at just the wrong moment and took a really good look at him. She said a few things, “ Liebling” was one but I don’t remember the rest. I just grinned and got on with the job as quickly as I could.”

“Darling.” said John, absent-mindedly, settling David over his left shoulder again.

“Yes?” she replied.

“That’s what “Liebling” means, it means “darling”. Jan told me they train children to denounce people, even their own parents sometimes. We could be in an awful lot of trouble.”

“I don’t think she’d denounce someone she had just described as darling, and besides, she probably didn’t know what she was seeing.”

“But you said she had a jolly good look at him.”

“Yes, and it was probably very educational for her. John, if all her siblings are sisters, there is a very good chance that she had no better idea of exactly what is and isn’t natural than I did myself.”

John looked at her, not knowing what to say. Her eyes danced. He felt a huge wave of relief. She was herself again.

“Oh, of course, I asked Mother about it when I came across the word in the Bible as a child, but I can’t say her explanation was very clear and she isn’t very good at drawing.”

Silently, he pulled two of the bread rolls from his pocket and offered her one.


	15. Copenhagen

 

It was Titty who suggested that they should not stick to their usual watches while in Copenhagen. “We shan’t all be interested in the same things.” she pointed out, “and we don’t need more than two people on board at the same time. We don’t need more than one really.”

So here she was, sitting in the hazy afternoon sunlight on Sea Bear’s deck writing postcards, with Dot sitting next to her scribbling in yet another exercise book. They, with Peggy, had visited Rosenborg Slot that morning, whilst Mac had taken the ship’s children to see the Little Mermaid. Roger and Dick had spent the morning on watch fiddling with the engine and were now on their way to join the others in the Tivoli.

“So have you got any suggestions?” she asked Dorothea.

“Probably set it about 1670’s and make it an adventure with romance, rather than a romance with adventure.” Dorothea replied.

“I meant about our problem.” And Dorothea complained that Dick could get wrapped up in his own thoughts!

“The surveying?”

“Shh, anyone could be walking past. No, I mean the “Ships’ children”.

Dorothea closed her exercise book, and sat on it. This was her way of signalling that she would give her full attention to the matter in hand.

“Have you spoken to Peggy about it?”

“She spoke to me, this morning. She said it had gone on long enough and did I want her to speak to Bridget about it or did I want to do it myself.”

“And you said?”

“I’d think about it and tell her this evening. I wanted to talk it over with you. You’re least likely to be biased in any way and you see things about people.”

“Sometimes I see what isn’t there, just what I hope for.” Dorothea confessed.

“You’re fine when it isn’t actually romance.”

“Well, what I see is Colin and Elspeth competing to be Bridget’s best friend, Colin winning easily, for some reason, followed by Colin and Bridget excluding Elspeth rather pointedly for at least a day. At first, Elspeth does her best to join in. After a day or two, Elspeth is too proud to carry on showing she wanted to be included, so she jumps to do any job going and look busy, showing them she doesn’t mind. All the time of course, she is minding dreadfully.”

“It’s all very third form.” agreed Titty.

“Young than that, even.” said Dorothea, “Why was Peggy offering to speak to Bridget? I thought you and Bridget got on very well as a rule.”

“Her watch.” explained Titty. “She might be offering me a gentle hint to get on and do something about it.”

“It seems a bit unfair to speak to Bridget and not Colin.”

“That’s the rub.” Titty agreed, “He’s not on my watch; I haven’t really got an excuse to speak to him about it. And Mac, for some unaccountable reason, doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it.”

“For all you know, he could have spoken to them about it this morning. If he’s any good he won’t give them a dressing down about it in front of other people anyway.” Dorothea suggested.

“I hope you’re right. I’m not sure telling people to get along really works.”

“Telling them to be friends won’t work.” Dot replied, “Telling them to get along seems reasonable. Everyone has to do that in life. School, college, work, families.”

“It must be pretty hard on Elspeth.” said Titty thoughtfully, “Here she is, oldest child, on her father’s ship. She must have been looking forward to being the expert, the one who knows the _Sea-Bear,_ maybe seeing herself as her father’s right-hand helper _._ Then along we come, already knowing the _Sea-bear_ , already knowing how to survey, already knowing how to sail.  Just to add insult to injury, Colin is in her father’s watch and she has to take orders from me, a complete stranger and not even properly grown-up. And then the only two other people her age gang up together and leave her out.”  

“You’ve left school.” Dot pointed out. “And you are a pretty good sailor.”

“She’ll know from Bridget that I’ve only just left school and it’s not as if I have a certificate saying ”I can sail quite well”. Although, that would be a jolly useful sort of examination to have.” said Titty

 “And can’t you just see Dick studying for it.” agreed Dorothea.

They both laughed, but briefly.

“He does study for it in a way.” said Titty, “With everything he learns, he treats it as if there’s going to be an examination. I rather admire that.”

Dot gave Titty a quick glance and then returned to looking out over the harbour.

“May be everything in life will be more of a test within the few months or so.” she said.  

Titty had thought that this probably wasn’t quite what Dot had originally intended to say, but they had a problem and she returned to it.

“So what do you think I should say to Elspeth? If anything?”

“You have to say something.” Dot replied, “ She has actually been easily the most helpful of the children. You could praise her for that and say how much you value having her on your watch, and then ask what she feels the problem is.”

“And I could point out that Mac only put her in my watch because I’m less experienced than Peggy and need all the help I can get.” Titty added.

“She was rather rude to you and Peggy that first meal-time.”

“Roger has given at least as much cheek to John at the same age.”

“A brother is different.” Dot suggested.

“He’s been just as bad to Nancy. Worse probably. I’m not quite sure why.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Dorothea, come on, don’t hint.”

“John and Nancy are, at the very least, best friends. Either Roger is just a bit jealous of the time John spends with Nancy, or when he rebels against John he automatically rebels against Nancy too.”

“It was only really that one summer.” said Titty loyally. “Anyway, what do you mean about at the very least?”

“I hoped you weren’t going to notice that, just as soon as I had said it.” admitted Dot, “And now you’re going to accuse me of seeing romance where it isn’t again.”

“So what do you see?”

“Nothing I could describe. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. I want to keep things how they are, really.”

“It’s the talk of war unsettling you. We would still be friends whatever, and the others aren’t going to forget you. It’s just that they aren’t that good at letter writing. John and Susan tend to send letters like reports. That doesn’t mean they don’t care, they just show they care by telling things that might interest you.” Titty reassured her.

“Dick does much the same.”

“Probably why he gets along so well with John. I’m convinced when it comes to war and the censors get going, John’s letters will go something like “Dear Titty, Roger and Bridget, I am in blank, yesterday blank, blank blank, blank, hope you are well,  love John.””  

“Surely he’d realise!

“You’re right. He’ll probably just write “Dear All, Hope you are well, Love, John” on every single letter.”

“If you speak to Elspeth, do you think it will sound the wrong note if you speak to Bridget too?” Dot returned to their problem.

“I probably should leave it to Peggy.” Titty agreed. “It probably would be better not to speak to Colin until we see what the others have to say. After all, we have no proper excuse to say anything to him.”

* * *

 

Mac had decreed that the cook should have an evening off.  The younger members of the crew and Peggy had already been fed by the time they returned to the ship. Peggy contrived to have a private word with Titty.

“I think Mac was a little more on the ball than we think he was. He went on a ride with young Colin. They went around three times and Colin was a bit quieter when he got off.” said Peggy, “And then, I’m afraid I jumped the gun a bit and spoke to Bridget on the way from the park to the café. It seemed to good a chance to miss. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I’m rather relieved, actually. How did Bridget take it?”

“She wasn’t about to admit anything, but she listened. I don’t know how much it means.”

“You never do know with Bridgie – you just have to wait and see.” Titty glanced at Peggy before continuing. “Just because she’s the most confident Walker doesn’t mean she’s necessarily like other confident people in all respects.”

“Meaning I shouldn’t assume she’s like Nancy.” Peggy laughed briefly. “Well, thanks for the tip. Nancy may have a lot of faults, but she does admit it when she’s in the wrong – eventually!”

“So will Bridget – but indirectly. I suppose I’d better have a word with Elspeth before we go for our meal or she’ll be pushing aside the olive branch when Bridgie waves it in her face. I can’t really think of an excuse to get her by herself.”

“Just call her on deck and when she gets there tell her you want a quiet word. I’ll keep the others from interfering.”

* * *

 

Elspeth listened quietly to what Titty had to say, but said very little to show what she thought of it.

When Titty had obviously finished and was waiting for her response, Elspeth said abruptly, “Your grandfather, the one in Australia?”

“Yes?”

“Does he like you all equally?”

“None of us have ever seen him.” said Titty, “so it’s hard to say. We get one Christmas card between us and a birthday card each, but he doesn’t says anything much. We write back of course; Mother makes us.  He wasn’t very pleased when Mother married Father, because it meant she left Australia. We’re sorry for Mother of course, but we can’t really be very upset on our own account.”

“That’s like us.” said Elspeth. “Granddad doesn’t like me because I look like Dad. He keeps saying that Colin looks like his family and it’s a pity I’m not bonnie like him. And then he says I’m not a proper lassie, because he saw me playing with Meccano once”

“What do your parents say when he says that?”

“Dad told him it was very educational. But he never says the other stuff when Mum and Dad are there. I wouldn’t mind but Colin believes it now and he says stuff. I bet he says things to Bridget to make her hate me.”

“Bridget will make up her own mind about you. It might just take her a bit of time. I’m certainly glad to have a bit of mechanical aptitude on my watch. Dick’s rather good, but I’d rather not depend on one person for that sort of thing all the time. I’m sure you know the _Sea-bear’s_ engine very well and I’m sure Roger would like some help when he does whatever it is he does with the engine. It’s a bit hard for him, because none off the rest of us have much interest in engines.”

“Titty, we’re starving, hurry up.” came Roger voice from the cockpit.

Mac, already in the dinghy to row the shore party across, was surprised to see his normally reserved eldest give Titty a brief, embarrassed hug before scrambling down the fore-hatch.

* * *

 

Roger had chosen the café, because it promised large portions at reasonable prices (at least, he thought, after some work with the dictionary, that it did.) When he and Dick had walked past it at lunchtime it had been filled with tables all occupied, which, as Dick pointed out lent some credence to their translation. When they arrived in the evening, they discovered that some of the tables had been pushed together, leaving room for a tiny dance floor. This made the place even more crowded, but, as Dot said it, also made the atmosphere even more atmospheric. The portions were indeed large and both Titty and Dot had to admit themselves defeated. There seemed to be few diners over thirty, and in the comforting and noisy babble, they felt able to talk in a way that they could not on board ship with, as Roger put it, too many little ears. However, Roger did readily agree to encourage Elspeth’s interest in engines and had his own opinion of Bridget’s conduct.

“She’s flattered.” he said. “If you had people falling over themselves to be your very best friend, you would be too.”

They talked about what they were up to on _Goblin_.

“Probably got miles and miles done – I bet John makes them get up at dawn and survey until mid-night.” said Roger, “Stop kicking me Titty. I realised as soon as I said it. Anyway, I bet no-one heard.”

“They’ll have even longer days than we will.” Dick pointed out, “We’ve been as far north as we’re going to go.”

When they had finished the meal, Roger asked Dot,

“Are you dancing?”

“Are you asking?”

“I’m asking.”

“I’m dancing.”

They manoeuvred their way out onto the crowed and tiny dance floor. Half way through the second dance Dorothea said to Roger,

“This is very pleasant, but it isn’t working, you know.”

“That’s because you’re trying to lead. I’m meant to be leading.”

“Sorry, that’s because I’m tall, and to be honest, only really used to dancing with other girls.”

“I didn’t think women’s colleges were as strict as that!”

“They aren’t, at least, not quite. We used to have dancing at wet break time in the school hall. One or two of the girls could play the piano quite well enough without the music. I like dancing, but I don’t get asked at Oxford much, even when I do get asked to a dance.”

“I don’t see why not. You dance jolly decently.”

“You only know that because you asked me.”

“I asked because you said earlier you liked dancing. So do I.  It’s easy to ask you, because we’ve known each other for ages, and it’s just a dance. It’s  a lot harder to ask someone you think you might care about.” Roger pointed out.

“Actually, that wasn’t what I meant about it not working.”

Roger knew quite well where she was looking. He laughed.

“Oh Dot, stop match-making. It’s far too convenient to be likely. Does Dick like dancing anyway?”

“He hasn’t had much practice.” Dorothea admitted, “I probably didn’t teach him very well and we didn’t have music. We just counted.”

“Titty’s not bad.” Roger admitted.

* * *

 

They made it look easy, Dick thought, laughing and chatting and weaving their way past the other dancers. He wanted to ask Titty to dance, but couldn’t find the words. Dot and Roger sat down, drank their coffee and stood up to dance again. He had to do something now, or lose the moment entirely. Hardly stopping to think about it, he stood up and held his hand out to Titty. She took it. They danced. Not as easily and deftly as the other two did, not laughing and joking, not even talking very much, but for now that didn’t matter. For now, it was enough that they danced.

* * *

 

Peggy rowed them back to the ship.

“Titty has anchor-watch until four,” she whispered, “then it’s Dick’s turn. Mac said we should be leaving about half-past seven.”

“Oh Peggy, we didn’t realise it was that late. I’m awfully sorry.” whispered Titty remorsefully.

“Just don’t make a habit of it.” Peggy whispered sternly, “Good morning.”

She yawned her way below, wondering why twenty suddenly felt middle-aged.


	16. In London

The Very Senior Officer had his own share of human curiosity, so he came to the door of his office himself. The sub-lieutenant was pretty much as he expected, grey flannel suit very much the worse for wear, tired but alert and very much in need of a bath and a shave. On the whole he approved of that –they appeared to have travelled without stopping; it showed a sense of urgency. The young woman was not quite what he would have expected, had he been expecting her at all. She was equally dishevelled. The hair was in an unfashionable bob, her face was devoid of makeup and the sadly abused navy print frock had evidently been chosen with practicality in mind. She had bare legs and gym shoes. The fair skin of her nose had evidently burned and peeled slightly in the past week or so. Hazel eyes met his in a direct gaze.  

“You better come in to my office and explain, Mr. Walker.”  Something in her eyes made him add, “Excuse us ma’am.”  

“You sailing fellows can never do a job simply, can you? We’ve had a chap bring a lady back from the Baltic before, although he wasn’t exactly one of ours, but to arrive back with a lady and a baby is, to my mind, a little excessive. You’d better sit down.”

“Thank you sir. The baby is German and Jewish. Since Nancy went with me, it’s hardly surprising she came back with me.”

“Suppose, Mr. Walker, you begin at the beginning and tell me what you saw, what you did and what you thought you were doing when you did it, paying particular attention to anything you think might possibly cause us any further trouble.”

The Very Senior Officer proved a surprisingly good listener, putting in an occasional comment or question.

“What happened to the rest of the doll?”

“What about the notebook?”

“I think, providing you both stay away from Tallinn, that you got away with that one.”

“It doesn’t surprise me in the slightest, the water supply there is supposed to be terrible, quite aside from anything else.”

“You had more luck than you deserved.”

“It does your hearts more credit than your heads.”

“She was quite right to insist on catching the first boat. She seems to be quite a sensible young woman.”

And finally, “So they can’t feed another mouth or house another child. Can’t say I blame them. Having two other children sent to them must be a strain on their resources. They’re probably being very wise. I’ve seen debt ruin lives just as surely as drink. You three must have been quite a shock on their doorstep at seven in the morning. I think you startled my secretary at eight, for that matter. So what are you going to do now?”

“Take Nancy back to her home. Face whatever music there is. I wouldn’t blame Mrs Blackett if she slams the door in my face. Contact adoption agencies and so forth, although I suspect there aren’t many Jewish couples looking for a baby just at the moment. I ought to go back to my ship as soon as possible.” John said.

“I think you should have few weeks leave to sort out the tangle you’ve got yourself into. Don’t be back any earlier than you were expected, at the very least.”

He glanced at the clock and stood up. John shot to his feet. “One last piece of advice – impertinent advice I’m afraid, but think it over anyway. Don’t let your present circumstances alter any important decision you might make or have already made. And one further point – have you got the money to get home?”

“We think so, just.” John said rather cautiously.

“You’d better borrow this to be sure. Don’t starve yourselves on the way home. And have a doctor take a look at that baby.” And the Very Senior Officer extracted a number of notes from his wallet. “After next pay-day will be fine, or even the payday after if things get a bit tricky.”

“Thank you, sir”

“Well,” said the Very Senior Officer as he swept into the outer office, “You don’t seem to have done at all badly, Miss Blackett, for a beginner, whatever Cavendish probably said. Would you be perhaps a little wasted as a Gym mistress?”

He strode off to his nine o’clock meeting.

“He knew a lot more about us than he let on at first.” observed Nancy as they walked past the National Galley.

“Mmm. I’m not sure that whether that’s good thing or a bad thing.”

“Did he say what was in the message?” she asked very quietly.

“They probably haven’t decoded it yet. We’ll never get to know anyway. Not unless it’s the sort of thing that the whole world gets to know.”

They bought some more nappies for David as they went along Tottenham Court Road. John was cramming them into the suitcase when a middle-aged woman coming towards them hissed at Nancy,

“You disgusting little tart. Measles! I’ll give you measles! Your things go right out on the doorstep the minute I get home.”

“Well I hope you haven’t still got my things – Mother certainly sent you the money to send them to Beckfoot, and the extra for your trouble.”

“Hussy!” and the woman stormed off.

“Your landlady?”

“I’m afraid so. I wonder if she really did keep the things and the money.”

“Did you leave much there?”

“Some books, a few clothes. My try-to-look-smart-shoes and my best coat and skirt. Nothing personal. Let’s get going again.”

* * *

 

When they were on the train, Nancy held out her left hand to John.

“Can you take that ring off and put it with the other one?”

“Wouldn’t you be better keeping it on? Your landlady knew you weren’t married, of course, but other people….” John trailed off and started again. “It might be less unpleasant for you.”

“That’s just it.” she said fiercely. “Can’t you see?”

Her eyes met his. After a long moment, he nodded slightly.

“You’re not going to hide behind the protection of someone else’s wedding ring, because if you did, you wouldn’t be Nancy Blackett.” he said. Still holding his eyes, it was her turn to give a slight nod.

When the ring was safely tucked away, he tried to disentangle David’s thumb from the collar of Nancy’s dress.

“What’s that bruise?” His fingers touched the round purple mark at the base of her neck, just below the line of her collar.

“That wretched Nazi and the mop. He caught me in several places. It’s just bruises, John, nothing to worry about.” She caught his look. “Really, it is fine. Whatever you think might have happened, didn’t. That’s all that matters.”

It was nearly time for the train to depart. A pair of middle-aged women entered the department and started fussing around with an inordinate number shopping bags.

“Nancy?”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to tell your mother about…. about what you told me on the train in Germany.”

She shook her head decisively. “No. Why upset her needlessly? She’s going to be upset enough when I explain about Anna and Jan and this little lad, but she’ll have to know that. Why make her unhappy with something that can’t be altered?”

“Wouldn’t it make you feel better?” asked John tentatively.

“No, I wouldn’t make any difference. I don’t think about it that often anymore. It was only the tiredness, and hurting all over and holding David. I’m sorry I was such misery.”

“I’m glad you told me.”

“So am I, really.”     


	17. At Beckfoot

 

“Eeeh, it’s the lass with the pigeons.” The porter at Strickland had not seen Nancy to speak to since last summer. “Miss Blackett isn’t it? Still, you’ll have another name now. You have been busy and no mistake.”

“Have we time to telephone?” Nancy asked, “Mother doesn’t know we’re coming yet.”

“You’ve got a good ten minutes yet. Telephone’s right by the booking office.”

John stood on the platform, holding David, who was grizzling plaintively, although he had only been fed half an hour ago and his nappy seemed quite dry. The porter seemed inclined to stand and chat. John did not want to get involved in explanations. Nancy had said for years that explanations always went wrong and she was almost certainly right in this instance.

“So what will the name be now?”

“I’m John Walker. This little chap is called David.”

“There’s more little ones called David now. Funny how names go in fashions. Now my eldest lass is a Joan, and you didn’t used to hear that name a lot when we gave it to her, but you hear it all over now.”

John did his best to keep them on the topic of names until Nancy came back from the telephone and they boarded the train again. The porter saying as he slammed the door after them, “Congratulations.”

Nancy looked at John. They had the compartment to themselves now.

“He didn’t notice the absence of a wedding ring.” John explained. “And I would be a lucky fellow if it were true.”

Nancy smiled at him, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Worried about what your mother will say?” he asked, “I’ll make sure she realises that it is all my fault.”  

This time she smiled properly. “How many times have I got to tell you that we’re in this together? Do you have to be so jolly chivalrous _all_ the time?”

“Do you mind?” he asked her softly.

“From you, I rather like it.” she admitted. She glanced up at his face. Again it held the expression she did not quite know how to read. “I’m more bothered that unless we find a home for David soon – well it’s one thing altering my life because I’ve promise to look after him. It’s beastly unfair to alter Mother’s life.”

John nodded. “You do realise I’ll be sending money to buy stuff for him, don’t you? I can at least do that.”

 “We can discuss that later. I’m just trying to work out if it’s better for me to get a teaching job and send the money home, or look after David and be another mouth to feed.”

“Let’s see what your mother has to say.”

“Did you tell her about David when you phoned?”

“I told her we had a very small baby with us.”

“What did she say?”

Nancy looked thoughtful. “It was a very loud silence.” she said eventually.

* * *

 

Mrs Blackett was waiting for them with Rattletrap. After Nancy had hugged her mother, she said,

“Can we get any powdered baby milk? We had two tins when we left Berlin, but they don’t seem to last very long.”

“Of course.” Her mother replied. The relief in her voice was quite evident even to John.

“Mother!” Nancy’s voice was full of hurt. “Did you really think I was introducing you to your grandson? Did you really think that of me? And how could you possibly think that of John?”

“Not really, I only saw you at Easter,” said her mother quietly, “but then when I was driving round the head of the lake, I started wondering how many other mothers thought that their daughters would never, well, get carried away, and were wrong. And some girls do manage to hide that sort of thing from everybody. You hear stories. I began to wonder whether I wasn’t being rather conceited thinking we were somehow different. And if it is any comfort to you, I had already decided that if this was my grandchild I could understand how the pair of you might have felt and would certainly forgive you both. Not approve, you understand, but forgive.”

Nancy started to blush. John became suddenly very interested in rearranging David’s little woolly cardigan. Mrs Blackett laughed, and her laugh sounded very like her daughter’s.

“Oh, Nancy dear, we certainly didn’t find you under a gooseberry bush and I loved your father very much. Parents are human too, you know, even the ones who behaved themselves.” Nancy was still speechless, as her mother continued, “We’re embarrassing John, and we need to get to the shops before they close.”

* * *

 

Cook had sandwiches ready for them when they arrived. Sitting on the sofa, listening to Nancy explain about Anna and Jan to Mrs Blackett as Cook bustled about with the teapot, John found that Nancy’s words were becoming jumbled. She must be so tired, he thought. He felt the tea-cup being taken from his hands. Hands were on his shoulders pushing him back onto the sofa. Cook’s voice came from very far away.

“Aye, I should have spotted that look, the master used to be just the same when he came back from the front. He’s just tired Miss Nancy. He’ll be right as rain in the morning. Don’t you go fretting now.”

Someone was taking his shoes off. Why were they doing that? Mrs. Blackett’s voice came urgently.

“Put your legs up on the sofa, John and then you can go to sleep.” He wanted to please Mrs Blackett, who somehow knew he loved Nancy and seemed to approve.

“Nancy.” He must have said her name aloud.

“She’s fine. I’ll look after her. You can go to sleep now.”

* * *

 

Dawn light was just beginning to filter through the curtains when John woke up, thirsty and confused, wondering why the train had stopped and what would happen next.

“Nancy?” he asked, “What’s happening?”

The sound of his own voice woke him up completely, and he padded into the kitchen in his socks to find some water. Mrs Blackett was sitting at the kitchen table in her dressing gown, trying to soothe David and rapidly flicking over pages in a fat red book.

“I never had to bother with this for my girls.” she said, “but there’s bound to be instructions here somewhere.”

“I know the proportions – at least if it’s the same for this brand as the other stuff.” John replied, checking the tin, and then testing to see if the water Mrs Blackett had boiled was cool enough.

“Shall I feed him?” John asked when the bottle was ready.

“I’d rather do it. But you could boil that kettle again and make us both some tea.”

 They were sitting at the table with the tea in front of them, and David was calm again. There was an uneasy silence. John knew he should be apologising again, but could find no words adequate. He drew a deep breath. He would have to try anyway.

“I know you’re about to apologise again.” said Mrs Blackett, “and you really have no need to. I know Nancy would get involved in whatever you’ve been doing in the same way she does everything else, whole-heartedly. Don’t tell me anything that’s secret, but there is one thing that I would like to know. When I undressed my daughter last night, why were there bruises all over her body?”

John explained about the mop and the Nazi. Mrs Blackett listened very quietly.

“At the beginning of the last war,” she said, “there were so many stories about German atrocities that turned out not to be true, that I thought, no I hoped, that some of stories we hear about Germany now were more of the same. They aren’t just propaganda, are they?”

John shook his head.

“Poor David.” she added. “I’d better put him back in the cradle and see if he’ll let us get any more sleep. We made the spare room bed up for you. I’ve put a pair of Jim’s pyjamas out on the bed for you.”


	18. The importance of signalling

 

Leaving Copenhagen had been exciting, and Elspeth had helped Roger with the engine, even being allowed to shut it off herself, although Roger remained within easy reach. They had spent much of the rest of the morning going through various engine routines, with Elspeth standing in front of the controls and miming what she would do in various situations. At midday, Bridget had quietly made a point of sitting next to her and had asked her a few questions about school. Titty and Dick had remained on deck from breakfast until well after lunch and were now asleep in their bunks, as befitted people who would be on watch for half the night. Peggy and Roger were also below getting some sleep, as they would have the evening watch.

Bridget and Elspeth, although officially off-watch, remained on deck as extra lookouts, since Mac would not allow them to stand watch at night. Dot was beginning to prepare supper, and was scraping carrots in the galley. Colin was sitting next to Mac at the helm, waiting for the next order. They had seen plenty of smaller sailing ships early in the day, but by the late afternoon they were seeing fewer. It was Elspeth who spotted the red sails first.

“Sail on the port bow!” she yelled cheerfully. Dot came up the companion way briefly to admire the ship before returning to the galley.

“I wonder if they’re doing the same as us, only in reverse.” said Bridget.

“If they’re heading to Copenhagen, they would have to be tacking.” Elspeth agreed. “I wonder if we’ll see them again when they come about.”

“They’ll probably pass astern of us on the next tack. That’s if they _are_ tacking.”

“She’s a beautiful boat anyway.”

“Almost like something out of a dream.”

“That’s the way she’s catching the light. It’s no so long until sunset. Do you think we should be helping Dorothea?”

* * *

 

They had reduced sail after supper, although the wind was not especially brisk. The children had been chivvied off to bed rather reluctantly. Mac, Titty and Dick were looking at charts on the cabin table. Dorothea had gone below. Roger had the helm and Peggy was on look out, checking off landmarks and lights in the dusk. Peggy glanced behind them. Behind them a boat was signalling in Morse, the white light barely discernible against the afterglow of the sunset. Idly she read the signal. Then far from idly, she read it as it was repeated again.

“Mac!” she let out a bellow that would have done her Uncle Jim credit.

“It’s Goblin signalling us. It’s Susan signalling. I’m sure of it.” she explained rapidly to Roger and then had to explain again as the others came hurtling up the companion way. “Hi, Titty, get me a light to signal with, quickly.”

 “Are you sure? How do you know?” Mac asked.

“They’re signalling “Sea bear” in Morse.” Peggy explained. “I’ve got to signal back. I don’t know how long they were signalling for. They may give up at any minute.”

“Let her signal.” said Mac. “It can’t do any harm. But I’m not willing to change course on a wild goose chase now.”

“But _Goblin_ is somewhere in the Gulf of Finland, surely.” said Dorothea

“And surely we’d have seen her and recognised her? It’s not long after sunset now.” said Titty handing Peggy their most powerful torch.

“You would,” Dick said, “But Dot and I have never seen _Goblin._ Has Peggy?”

“Only the once.” said Roger, “quite a long time ago, but Bridget was on deck all afternoon. Surely you’d recognise _Goblin,_ Bridget?”

“Bridget did,” said Elspeth abruptly, “but she didn’t know she had. Remember the boat with the red sails that you said was like something out of a dream, Bridget? She was something out of a memory. You’d seen her before as a wee child, but you didn’t recognise her.”

“You’d be about five or six the last time you saw her. And she does have red sails.” said Titty.

“Tell us everything you noticed.” said Mac and the two girls explained as well as they could when and where they had seen the little ship and what course she had been on.

“We have to meet them.” Peggy interrupted eyes still on that faint light. “Something’s wrong. They need help from us. We have to go back. It’s still Susan signalling. Why don’t they put Nancy on signalling? She’s much more in practice and Susan sails nearly as well.”

“Titty, take the tiller.”

“Aye sir”

 “Peggy, keep your eyes on _Goblin_ and keep pointing towards them.”

“Aye sir”

“Elspeth can you manage the engine?”

“Aye sir”

“I shall need Roger on deck.”

“Aye sir”

 “We’ll use the wind to bring us about and then we’ll need to use the engine. If we play around trying to tack ourselves we’ll lose her entirely. Dot and Bridget on the foresail. Dick, Roger and Colin on the Mainsail. I shall want both sails down quickly when I say”.

“Aye sir.” And the crew scrambled forwards.

 “Peggy, signal Goblin to heave to. Let’s not chase a moving target.”

“Aye sir”

* * *

 

“Aren’t they going to send their dinghy over?” asked Mac, as Peggy watched the flashes _Goblin_ intently.

“No.” said Peggy, “They’re asking us to send Roger and Titty over in our dinghy.”

“But theirs is already in the water.”

“Can’t do.” said Peggy shortly.

“What do you mean, “can’t do”?” Mac spluttered.

“That’s what they signalled.” said Peggy, her voice tense. “I can’t see Nancy; I can’t see John. I thought I could see John at first, but then he crossed into the light – I presume that’s Jim – Similar height and build anyhow.”

“We’re ready to go as soon as you give the word.” said Titty, who sounded no less worried.

“Very well.” said Mac.  “I would like to know what they think they’re doing. Off you go, Titty, you’re relieved of your watch. Yes, you hadn’t notice the time, had you? Children go below.”

Reluctantly, they went.

“Mac.” Dot said, as quietly as she could when the business of lowering the dinghy was accomplished and Roger was rowing steadily across to _Sea bear_. “That’s Bridget’s brother who appears not to be, well not there.”

Mac gave her a quick, sideways glance. “Why do you think I sent them below? If it _is_ bad news of some description, then let’s at least spare her _seeing_ Titty and Roger hear it. I thought Peggy was being panicky, but I’m beginning to wonder why they wouldn’t signal to explain more.”

“Peggy isn’t the sort to worry without reason. Or even with a reason.” Dot explained.

“You can go below and see how Bridget is, if you like, but she’s got my two with her, and they always do come up trumps when it matters. She’s not the one who needs you.”  

Dot caught the direction of his glance and went forward to stand by Peggy. She could not find any words. Peggy glanced at her, gave a half-smile, and then resumed her scrutiny of the smaller boat.

“They’ve gone below.” said Peggy, although she knew perfectly well Dorothea had seen that for herself. “All except Jim – if that’s him.”

It seemed a very long time until Susan, Roger and Titty came on deck. Susan and Roger rowed back to the _Sea-bear_.

“Let me explain, Roger,” Susan was saying as her head reached the level of deck. “Permission to come aboard?”

Things could not be so bad, Dot thought, if Susan could still remember to make the request.

“It’s perfectly alright, Peggy.” said Susan, “At least, Nancy and John are fine and there’s nothing for you to worry about. Where’s Bridget, is she worrying too?”

“Of course I was.” said Bridget coming up the companionway. “Anyone would be. Why could you not signal to say you were alright? Where are Nancy and John? What are you doing here? Why hasn’t Titty come back?”

“I didn’t realise you hadn’t got the telegram.” Susan explained. “Nancy and John are fine, although I expect they’re pretty bored by now. They had to take a message back to London by train. I expect they got there a couple of days ago. Titty will come back with the dinghy when we go across again. We expected to find you waiting for us in Copenhagen. I didn’t know about mother going to Australia.”

“Dad sent a letter for us to pick up in Copenhagen to say she’d got there safely.” said Bridget.

“In time.” added Dot, who knew this would matter far more to Susan than to Bridget.

Susan nodded her thanks, but continued, looking at Mac, “We met an Englishman in Helsinki. He’s very ill indeed and needs to get home quickly. I’m fairly sure it’s his liver.” Everyone else nodded and looked grave, except Colin, standing next to Elspeth on the companionway, who hissed anxiously to his sister “What’s the liver?”

Eyes still fixed on Susan, Elspeth pointed to where she thought it was.

“Not bad.” said Susan, but gently moved Elspeth’s hand up a couple of inches higher up.

“It’s only been the two of us to handle _Goblin_ since Riga and we’ve sailed pretty much non-stop. We were hoping you’d let Roger or Titty or maybe both come back with us.”

“Only I said it had better be me.” said Roger, “And Jim agreed. Titty isn’t much good with engines, really, and she’s much better than me at surveying. Sailing too. Dick knows what he’s doing with an engine, and Elspeth’s got a real feel for it. You don’t need me here. So, if you don’t mind me going, Mac?”

“And if I said I did mind? I notice you’ve already packed your knapsack.”

Roger grinned at him. “I thought I’d better be polite about it.” he said,” but I’m not about to leave Susie in the lurch.”

“Go on with you,” Said Mac, “but I can’t spare Titty as well, nor any of the others if we’re to cover what we planned. We’re already one short as it is.”

“We left our section unfinished.” said Susan. “We should be fine with three of us.”

“Anything else we should know?” asked Mac. “Don’t want to be unwelcoming, but the sooner both boats are moving again the happier I’ll be. Is there anything else you need that we can supply? Medical things?”

Susan shook her head. “I kitted out the medical kits exactly the same in each boat. We’ve only used some of the sticking plasters and a bit of the witch-hazel. There’s nothing we’ve got that will help a liver.”

Good -byes were said and _Sea-bear’s_ dinghy was rowed to and from the _Goblin_ one last time. Strangely the ship’s children made no demur when they were promptly sent back to their bunks after sails were once again hoisted. The older ones remained on deck, conferring about altering watch rotas and plotting a new course. Dorothea glanced down into the cabin and saw the curtains pulled across their bunks.

“Goodnight!” she called softly.

“Good night, Dot!”

“Night!”

There was no sound from Colin’s bunk. Dorothea decided that he must already be asleep.

“She’s gone.” whispered Bridget.

Elspeth’s feet made almost no sound as she pattered across to Bridget’s bunk.

“Well done on not answering, Colin” said Elspeth, as she slid under the curtain. “She’d have been sure to tell you weren’t in your bunk.”

“What do we think John and Nancy are up to?” began Bridget, taking the chair (well, pillow really) since they were in her bunk.

“Your brother is in the Navy isn’t he? Do you think he’s gone back because they’re going to start a war?” suggested Colin, “It would be quicker to go by rail really.”

“What about this Nancy, why would she go back?” Elspeth inquired.

“Anyone would want Nancy on their side in a war.” said Bridget, certain events from last summer crowding back into her mind. “She’s the best at secret plans, really. Although Titty’s pretty good too.” she added loyally. “But she’s training to be a games mistress, so I don’t think it that likely that she’d go back for that.”

“An army of hockey teachers would be pretty terrifying.” Elspeth mused.

“Elspeth doesn’t really get on in hockey lessons.” explained Colin, unnecessarily.

“I’m getting used to it now.” His sister maintained stoutly. “But we’re getting off the point. If there really is going to be a war, why would we still be heading for the German coast? Dad would say it was too dangerous.”

“So would Susan. And she would be a lot more worried if John was going to fight in a war. I don’t think it is that.” said Bridget.

“Don’t they have to say there’s going to be a war, before there is going to be one?” Colin asked.

“Declaration of war.” said Elspeth thoughtfully, “Yes I think it does, but I don’t know how much warning they have to give.”

“ You mean we could turn up to wherever we’re surveying and find the place covered in German soldiers who capture us?” both girls could hear the note of panic in Colin’s voice now.

“I’m sure there would be no danger of that.” said Elspeth hastily.” There are probably rules or something. It’s not like hide-and-seek, coming ready or not.”

“Even we have rules when we have private wars.” said Bridget, “We give at least a day’s notice, in case of grown-up business getting in the way. Mostly it has to be Sunday now because of Peggy’s work.”

“Your holidays sound a lot more fun than ours.” said Colin.

“But you’ve got the _Sea-bear.”_

“Ships aren’t as important as friends.” said Elspeth. This was still a rather uncomfortable topic for all three of them, so she continued swiftly. “My theory is this; that your brother and your friend are off on a spying mission. Like Richard Hannay.”

“Who?”

“You know, Colin, in _The thirty-nine steps_ and _Greenmantle._ ”

“I didn’t really understand _Greenmantle_.” Colin admitted, “and I thought Richard Hannay was a soldier anyway.”

“Not in the first one.”

“If the Army can do it, the Navy can do it just as well, maybe better.” said Bridget.

“We won’t argue about that.” said Elspeth diplomatically. “But do you think they might have gone somewhere to spy?”

“Susan doesn’t lie.” said Bridget, “so they have gone back to London and they have gone by train. But she might not say everything, so maybe they haven’t gone back directly. Maybe they are spying.”

“So are we really.” said Colin, “we’re looking at things secretly.”

“I asked Daddy and he said it wasn’t, because we aren’t at war and its only stuff that’s there for everyone to see. He said we’re just being discrete and cautious. If..”

“It sounds as if they have finished talking.” said Elspeth, “You can always tell by the tone of Dad’s voice.”

“We had better be discrete and cautious then.” said Colin as he scurried back to his own bunk.

We didn’t even mention the man with the liver, thought Bridget as she drifted off to sleep. We must talk about him tomorrow.


	19. Glider Pilot

“Eight and sand.”

“Seven and sand” Peggy’s voice sounded so like Nancy’s in the light evening mist that Dorothea was transported back five years to a narrow inlet in the Hebrides.

“Let go the anchor!”

“Aye sir, _Dot,_ do wake up and help me with the anchor!” Dick, normally patient, sounded exasperated. Mac was coming to help them and see what the problem was. Dorothea bent hastily to help with the anchor.

“Kedge out first, then let’s get sails properly stowed. Elspeth, we shan’t need the engine. Bridget, you can come down now. That was nicely done, Titty”

“It doesn’t feel that close in.” said Elspeth doubtingly.

“We don’t want to be.” Her father replied.

“Is that because of the tides?” Colin asked.

“But we haven’t seen any tides to speak of.” said Elspeth.

“I thought the Baltic was like the Mediterranean, tide-less.” Bridget joined the deck and the conversation.

“It is – more or less.” Mac agreed. “After we’ve done this, anchor watch is Dot, Dick and Titty in that order.

* * *

 

The dawn light, filtering through the mist was so beautiful that Titty felt she was being almost selfish enjoying it by herself. Soon after sunrise, Elspeth crept up the companion way to join her in the cockpit.

“I suppose I should send you back to your bunk.” Titty whispered.

“This is far too exciting to miss.” Elspeth whispered back. “And I am wrapped up warmly.”

Gradually the remains of the mist were tinted pink then gold and burned off, leaving a sparkling blue sea and sky and a fresh on-shore breeze. Their hair blew wispily around their bare heads. They could see the pale yellow sand, fresh green of the grass on the on the dunes and further in the distance they could see the red roofs a small town.

“What’s that, over there?” Elspeth asked, still in a whisper, indicating a grey smudge of smoke much further along the coast.

“Rostock, I think. It’s a port and quite a big industrial city. But it is quite a long way off. Hull down, as it were. I suspect it is part of the reason why we are here.”

Elspeth nodded, her face suddenly sombre again.

“Let’s see if we can get the porridge made and the tea brewed before we have to wake anyone.” Titty said quietly to Elspeth.

* * *

 

 The day was a busy one. They had arrived almost exactly where they had intended to. Mac sent the four older ones to buy food, water and petrol, letting Bridget row them to the beach in the dinghy. The three ship’s children then put on a fine performance of “playing” with ranging poles on the sand-dune and in the shallow, tempting water. Colin and Elspeth were a little wooden at first, but Bridget had to give Elspeth credit for getting on with the job efficiently. To Bridget’s mind, Colin was too inclined to look over to his father on _Sea bear_ for further instructions at first but soon got swept along by Bridget’s infectious enthusiasm. By the time the first of what Elspeth called the “bucket-and-spade brigade” arrived, they had already covered some considerable length of the shore and Elspeth had to run back and fetch the dinghy. When she arrived, two boys of about her own age and her somewhat taller, were investigating it.

“Is that your boat or are you stealing it?” Elspeth might not do so well in games lessons, but she was somewhere near the top of the class in all her academic subjects and her one year of German lessons stretched that far.

“It’s my father’s boat.” She could say far less than she understood and her mind went blank when she tried to remember the word for move.

“My father.” She repeated, pointing to _Sea bear_ where Mac stood leaning on the rail _._ “This is my father’s boat.”

She put her hand on the gunwale in a proprietary fashion and was about to push off and scramble aboard when the younger one grabbed her arm.

“We want to play with it.”

“It’s my father’s boat.” She couldn’t remember the word for “Allowed to” and fell back rather lamely on “Es ist nicht moglich.”

“Du siehst judisch, und so macht dein Vater. Du musst uns mit ihm zu spielen.”

“No, I mean, Nein.” Elspeth was rapidly feeling out of her depth, which she hated.

“You can’t speak good German, even.” the older one said contemptuously, still in German.

“Well, her German is better than your English!” said a loud, cheerful voice behind Elspeth in English. The two boys looked at each other and then at Bridget, taller and more confident, only slightly out of breath and with her mousey-blonde plaits still swinging slightly as she came to a halt a few yards away. They glanced quickly along the narrow beach to where their mother (Elspeth presumed it was their mother) sat with their baby sister.

“They aren’t so brave now the odds are even, are they?” Bridget observed in a ringing voice. “English boys wouldn’t call for their mummy just because they tried to bully a couple of girls who wouldn’t be bullied.”

“I’m glad you’re here, but we’re no supposed to be _starting_ a war.” Elspeth murmured.   

 “Scottish boys would nae be that cowardly either.” Colin arrived, out of breath.

“We’re getting in our boat and going now.” Elspeth informed the boys in English.  “But only because there’s three of us and we don’t want you to think we’re as cowardly as you are.”

They were half-way to the _Sea-bear_ before Bridget started to laugh. Colin and Elspeth looked at her in astonishment.

“For people who don’t want to start a fight, you’re no more diplomatic than I am.” Bridget said.

“Who said we didn’t want a fight?” said Colin.

“I just didn’t want to ..to compromise our mission.” said Elspeth.

“I suppose we’d better pick up the ranging poles before they think to have a look for them.” Bridget said. “Look here, I’ll nip out and get them, because I can remember where we dropped them. Shove off as soon as you’ve dropped me, in case those kids come mucking around. It’s waist deep for yards and yards, so I can scramble in alright with you afloat.”

Elspeth was fairly sure this was just a ruse to protect her from further hassle but was grateful all the same.

Her father listened carefully to their account when they got back to the ship.

“The mother won’t make trouble for you if you steer clear.” He said. “She didn’t much like them poking about the boat before you noticed them, and she did call them away, but they paid no mind to her. If I caught either of you taking that manner to your mother, it would be no reading for Elspeth and no football for Colin for a week. Keep a look out for the others, and Bridget rows out to fetch the first of them back. After that, none of you three is to go ashore without an adult. I’m sure you can cope fine, but other people don’t know that until they’ve started to make trouble and we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

* * *

 

By the afternoon, they were all back aboard and sailing gently along the shore line with Titty swinging the lead. Elspeth was recording the depths on a copy of the chart and Bridget, Dorothea and Peggy were taking bearings on various landmarks. Only Dick was able to do the calculations quickly enough for them to plot the depths directly on to the chart.

“If we record this separately, we only have to make one mistake and everything is out, but you’d never get to know it until you came to use the chart.” he explained. “It’s better to have some dubious data that you know you don’t trust than to think everything is fine when it’s not.”

 _Sea bear_ was slipping lazily through the water, not carrying much canvas, even though the wind was getting lighter.

“It seems strange to be trying to go slowly.” said Colin, “Like a slow bicycle race.”

“Don’t let’s distract them.” said Bridget. “But we had better put the kettle on. It’s nearly four o’clock.”

“Colin stays on look out.” said his father. “The rest of them wouldn’t spot an elephant if it swam past.”

“Can they swim?” asked Bridget. “I would have thought they’d be too heavy.”

“They swim very well, I’ve seen them.” Mac replied. “Of course they can use their trunks to help them breathe while they keep their mouth underwater.”

“It might be how they got to Ceylon.” said Dick without lifting his head from the chart, “but some people think it’s because the sea level used to be a lot lower. They probably still swam a bit.”

Bridget went below to put the kettle on and so was the only one of the crew to miss what happened next.

“There’s a plane.” Colin was nearly as air-minded as Roger, so no-one took much notice of this.

“It’s a glider.” Still no response from anyone else.

“He’s going to crash into the sea.” That got everyone moving.

“Treat it like a man-over-board.” Mac’s voice, quite calm. “Good lad, Colin.” Colin was evidently doing the stare-and-point as Bridget privately called it to herself.

“Ready about”

“Ready.” Came voices from the deck.

Bridget grabbed the kettle to keep it on the stove.

“Going about.” They went about. Bridget steadied the kettle in its new position, and then turned off the stove. She wasn’t about to leave a naked flame unattended with who-knew-what happening on deck. She rushed in to the cockpit, grabbed a few items and scurried below again, before returning to the deck. Mac nodded his approval but said nothing.

“Stand by ready to help Dick drop the main sail when I give the word.” Mac told her as they scrambled past. “We want to be cautious with all that debris floating about.” he continued, almost to himself and then louder, “Is that rope fast, Peggy?”

“Aye, sir.”

They dropped the already reefed mainsail and slipped forwards with the tiny amount of headsail they had been using. The wind was in any case dropping and they had barely enough way for Mac to steer.

“Dick! Dot!” came Peggy’s voice from the bows.

“Yes?”

“What’s German “for hold the rope”?”

“Halten Sie das Seil, I think.” replied Dick after a short pause.

“I suppose that’s why they call the rope the sail sometimes.” added Dot.

They hove to and Peggy threw the rope twice, but the pilot either could not or would not even attempt to catch it.

“Lucky we were still towing the dinghy.” he said. ”Peggy and Titty, down you go.”

With Peggy at the oars, they reached the (presumably) injured pilot, but neither of them could persuade him to attempt to climb aboard the dinghy. In the end Titty had to get into the water to make him to transfer his grip from the wreckage of his glider to the gunwhale of the dinghy and Peggy paddled carefully back to the _Sea bear_ with one of them clinging to each side.

“Keep out of grab range as much as you can.” Peggy advised Titty anxiously. “He’s probably had a blow on the head. Water’ll be awfully hard when you hit it at that speed.”

As Titty trod water by the side of _Sea-bear_ and fastened ropes in a makeshift but serviceable harness around the (probably) injured pilot she felt profoundly grateful for all the time John had spent insisting that she and Roger had learned to tie knots quickly and efficiently. With five of them on the ropes and Colin at the tiller, they managed to haul the injured pilot aboard first time, although he did fetch Titty a blow on the nose with his shoe as he kicked out. By the time, Bridget had made the dinghy fast and Titty and Peggy were back aboard the _Sea-bear,_ Dorothea had already got a blanket around the injured airman and Dick and Mac were removing the soggy uniform. Elspeth was leaning anxiously over the stern, trying to work out if she would be able to start the engine without a disaster caused by the debris. Colin was still at the tiller, glancing rather anxiously at the shore and wondering if he should say anything. It still seemed a fine long way off and the wind was very light but it was nevertheless a lee shore and Colin found himself unable to really believe in a tide-less sea. Not for worlds would he admit that it was his first time holding the tiller without an adult hovering attentively over him.

Elspeth pulled herself upright and shyly offered her handkerchief to Titty.

“It’s quite clean.” she said, “And your nose is bleeding a little.”

With the water streaming down her face from her hair, Titty had not felt the blood trickling down and she had the taste of salt in her mouth anyway. She thanked Elspeth and pressed her nose hard with the hanky.

“They’re putting the pilot in Dick’s bunk.” continued Elspeth. “Bridget’s clearing it now. You’ll be able to get dry in a few minutes.”

* * *

 

This was only the third night of what Elspeth called the “solemn conclave” but already certain customs had become established.

“So what do we think?” Bridget began.

“He doesn’t know how to give credit where it is due.” said Elspeth. “He’s busy making sheep’s eyes at Dot when it was Titty who pulled him out.”

“He won’t tell them where which airbase he needs to get back to. Dick keeps asking him.” Colin said. “Dick made a copy of everything in the man’s pockets as well, in his little notebook, when we were drying out the clothes. Does he always write things down?”

“Pretty much, yes.” said Bridget.

“Can’t they tell from the pilot’s uniform?” asked Elspeth.

“Only that he’s in the Luftwaffe and which unit, not where he’s based. It’s not like which scout troop someone’s in.” Colin explained. “Do you think he’s being so cagey because he’s spy?”

“You can’t be a spy in your own country.” said Elspeth. She thought about this for a few seconds and amended it, “Not that sort of spy.”

“Speaking of” Colin caught his sister’s eyes, “Being careful and discrete, where are …..”

“You’re sitting on them.” said Bridget.

“The thing is,” said Elspeth, “can we trust Dorothea to keep her head? I’m sorry to admit this about a fellow _Sea-bear_ but really she does seem to encourage him. She practically simpered at him when he called her an angel. At least, I think that’s what “Engel“ means. Sorry, Bridget we know she’s your friend, but it was quite sickening really.”

Bridget thought carefully. “She can’t be that daft because she’s gone to university, and there’s not that many women’s colleges, so I expect it _is_ harder to get in. And she’s let me read some of the things she’s written and she seems to know a jolly sight more about history than most people. But,” she added fairly, “Susan says that it’s no good imagining people do act like that in real life.  She says that Dot thinks that people are all good or all bad and she’ll come to grief if she carries on like that. But I say,” Bridget blushed guiltily, “I shouldn’t even have heard that in the first place, let alone repeated it.”

“That’s fine.” said Elspeth quickly, “It was only the exigencies of our mission made you say it. It’s not like you’re gossiping for the fun of it.”  

“What’s an exigency?” asked Colin, to Bridget’s relief. She hadn’t liked to ask.

“Something you’ve got to do.” said Elspeth.

 “Like home-work?” pressed Colin.

“Not quite. I think it’s more important stuff than just things they make you do.” Elspeth replied a bit vaguely. She read voraciously and generally absorbed new words as she read. She seldom needed recourse to a dictionary and was therefore able to use her new acquisitions correctly and effortlessly but not always produce neat definitions for them.

“Don’t you three think you had better go to your own bunks?” Titty stuck her head around the curtain and then continued in a swift whisper, “Mac says don’t assume he can’t speak English and, Elspeth, you’re not to let on you’ve had a single lesson in German, ever. Dick and Dot tried him in German, so that can’t be helped now. Act young and act dumb, he says.” She continued in a louder voice. “Off you go to your beds. No staying up this late until you are at least ten.”

The conspirators grinned at her unrepentantly and obeyed, yawning somewhat theatrically.


	20. The ship's children get worried

 

Next morning when the children woke up they found that a difficult atmosphere had sprung up, seemingly overnight. Only Mac seemed unperturbed. Peggy, tight-lipped, was cooking breakfast. Bridget presented herself with hair brush and hair-ribbons to Titty, who was sitting in the cockpit next to the pilot, who was ignoring her attempts to communicate. Titty took the hint and when she had finished plaiting Bridget’s hair, summoned Elspeth over and brushed her hair as well. Their guest murmured something in German. Titty felt Elspeth stiffen slightly under her fingers.

On the fore-deck, Dick and Dot were talking together with their backs to the rest of them. Dick appeared to be lecturing Dorothea. Dot’s manner was defiant. She broke away from the railing abruptly and made her way swiftly back to the cockpit. This morning she had her “better” summer frock on and, despite the cool breeze, a white cardigan rather her usual green jersey. Her fair plaits were wrapped and pinned around her head like a crown.  She made her way to the galley and was just in time to help Peggy dish up the bacon. Bridget did not think it was entirely coincidental that it was Dorothea who put the plate down in front of the German pilot, so that while Peggy had done the work, Dorothea received the thanks.

“I hope, Colin,” said Bridget in her most casual conversational tone as they sat around the cabin table, “That you haven’t been spitting in visitors’ meals again. It really isn’t polite.”

Almost everyone stopped eating momentarily and most of them glanced at either Bridget or Colin. Only the pilot glanced first at his plate.

Gotcha! thought Bridget. If you were just following other people’s reactions you would have looked at Colin with the rest of them.

“Oh no!” replied Colin, gamely, “I only do that in the marmalade nowadays.”

They all resumed eating, and the pilot finished his bacon, but declined all offers of toast and marmalade.

“Now,” said Mac when he had finished his toast. “We are somewhere here,” he gestured to a spot on a land map which he had lifted over from the bunk behind him. “So if we drop our guest here,” he pointed to a small town, “He should be able to catch a train back to wherever it is he’s from. If I were his CO, I’d tear a strip off him for messing around playing the amateur Bulldog Drummond, but that’s his look out.”  

Bridget thought the pilot probably hadn’t understood what Mac had said - but then perhaps he was more on his guard with Mac. Maybe he didn’t understand colloquialisms.

By nine o’clock, they were lowering the dinghy and Dorothea, Elspeth, Colin and Bridget were sent to row the pilot ashore. Dick and Peggy seemed unhappy with Mac’s choice of shore party, but made no demur. The pilot seemed delighted, and no sooner had Colin tied the painter to the ring on the jetty, than he suggested that Dorothea accompany him to the station.

“Eine gute Idee! Ich sollte den Kindern etwas anderes zu tun.” She exclaimed  “Why don’t you buy yourself some ice-cream?” and Dorothea handed over some reichsmarks from her purse to Bridget, giving a slight pressure from her fingers as she did so.

Bridget wasn’t quite sure how to interpret the pressure – if indeed she had not simply imagined it – but was not going to let it spoil her plans. The minute Dorothea and the pilot rounded the building and passed out of sight she said,

“Colin, someone has got to mind the boat, and it has to be you, but pass Elspeth your cap. If I do this,” she let her plaits out and dropped her sunhat in the bottom of the dinghy, “and this,” she picked up Dorothea’s white cardigan from under the thwart and shrugged it on, “there, that’s as different as I can manage in a hurry. Come on, Elspeth, we don’t want to lose them. Just stay here Colin, you’ll be perfectly alright.”

The two girls ran off down the jetty. Inevitably, they had lost their quarry.

“My fault for delaying.” said Bridget, although it cost her something to admit it.

“We know they’re going to the station.” said Elspeth, “and the town isn’t that big, so it probably has only one station. We just keep asking for it and people will point. As long as we know which way we’ve been, we can always find our way back.”

“I thought Titty said not to let on you spoke German?”

“Only to the pilot. These people haven’t a clue who we are and what’s better they won’t care.” said Elspeth. “I shall have to listen to instructions, although I probably won’t understand them, so you had better be in charge of making sure we can find our way back.”

They found they could walk to the station easily, and the route was so straightforward they could hardly have missed Dorothea walking back another way.

“So where are they?” said Bridget.

“You don’t suppose he’s kidnapped her do you?” asked Elspeth.

Bridget snorted, “Not too likely at her size!” Dorothea was an inch or so taller than Titty, and while not exactly hefty, was built on a bigger scale.

“Would she be daft enough to get in car with him? I am thinking that she’s turned daft enough in other ways.” Elspeth suggested. “There’s been no train out of here in the past half hour.” And she nodded at the departures and arrivals boards. She wasn’t too sure which was which, but as long as she could read the times it didn’t actually matter.

Bridget shook her head. “I’m beginning to wonder whether she‘s daft at all. She’s being a bit too daft, if you see what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, I’ve never known her upset other people like this, especially not Dick. _And_ I thought she was giving me some kind of signal when she gave us the money.” 

“Well, we can wait and see if they arrive for the next train. But I’m no happy leaving Colin on his own any longer than that.”

“He’s nine! Titty stayed by herself on Wildcat Island overnight at that age. Mind you, I don’t think Mother or Susan were all that happy about it. John and Susan shut up pretty quickly if anyone mentions it.”

“And this is abroad.” said Elspeth, “Anyway let’s split up so we are less obvious. Do you want to watch the entrance and I’ll hang around near the ticket office and see if I can hear when he asks for a ticket.”    

“Here,” Bridget fumbled in the pocket of her skirt and handed her a marble. “Take this and you can drop it to get closer.”

“I’ll not lose it for you.”

“If you have to lose it, it’s in a good cause.”

Bridget herself discreetly removed a comic from the rubbish bin and sat on a bench from which she could see the entrance. They did not have long to wait. When Dorothea and the pilot arrived, it immediately became obvious what had taken so long. Dorothea was carrying a posy of pink roses. Bridget thought for a minute that Dorothea had seen her, but Dot’s eyes swept past her with barely a flicker. The pilot approached the ticket office window with Dorothea watching him. Elspeth dropped the marble, but Bridget did not wait to see what happened next. She wandered on to the platform. Did they expect you to have platform tickets in a station so small? Apparently not. She wandered down to the end of the platform, still clutching the comic and stood behind a pillar, apparently absorbed.

Dorothea and the pilot walked onto the platform, Dorothea’s hand on his arm. Elspeth slipped onto the platform a few seconds later and crouched down behind a trolley apparently adjusting her socks. She caught Bridget’s eyes and in a brief, sketchy gesture, mimed vomiting so well that Bridget wanted to laugh. The airman was writing something down on a piece of paper for Dorothea. She was writing something down in return on a piece of paper she gave to him. Surely she couldn’t be stupid enough to give him her address? The platform was wooden and Bridget could feel the vibration of the approaching locomotive.  He kissed Dorothea’s hand. For anyone else, that would be ludicrous. For Dorothea, it was probably just perfect, Bridget thought gloomily. Dorothea looked as if she really had gone soft in the head. Not a glance, not a gesture to show she was play acting.

The train pulled in and there was a certain amount of bustle. Dorothea tilted her cheek so the pilot could kiss her. This could not possibly get any more nauseating, Bridget thought. Elspeth’s cover had disappeared, pulled over to the goods van. She had settled for sitting with her arms folded and her head down on a nearby bench, looking as sulky as she knew how. With her hair tucked under the cap and wearing brown shorts, she might just pass for a boy. The whistle blew. Thank goodness, thought Bridget, he’ll be gone before it can get any worse. The train pulled out. Handkerchief-waving, Bridget thought, that’s fine, but does anyone over five years old blow kisses?  Dorothea watched until the guards van had rounded the corner then spat onto her hankie and scrubbed at her cheek. She was looking straight at Bridget’s pillar.

“You can come out now, Bridget.” Dorothea’s voice was not loud, but carried clearly enough in the quiet after the train’s departure. “What have you done with the other two?”

“I’m here.” It was Dorothea’s turn to be surprised as Elspeth stood up almost within arm’s reach of her. “And we left Colin with the dinghy and we should be getting back to him.”

“He’ll be worried.” Dorothea agreed.

“Not as worried as the others.” Bridget suggested.

“Let’s get back anyhow.” Elspeth urged.

“Drop that filth in the bin on the way past.” suggested Dot, “No, I suppose you’d better keep it, it’s all straws in the wind, I suppose.”

Elspeth had certainly expected to find Colin a bit agitated when they returned to the dinghy, and he was, but not in the way that they had expected.

“Peggy keeps signalling like a windmill.” he announced. “She will use semaphore and I can hardly understand a word she says. Our Arkala is a lot more keen on Morse, so I’m not that good on semaphore.” I keep telling them _Stay there, all OK_. But now they’re messing about with that blasted folder. Sorry, Dot.”

“There’s a lot worse words than that – but don’t get into the habit. The folder is a bit of a nuisance, but it came in jolly useful once. Signal and head them off, Bridget. Say “ _stay put, coming back now._ ” And then you’d better plait your hair again – it’s quite a nuisance blowing about.”

This new Dot was as far away as she could possibly be from the simpering duffer of the early morning, who had had to let Colin and Bridget row and said that she preferred to be “richtig fraulich”. She was also a different Dot from the one who cooked for the _Sea-bear_ and worried whether about things were being done as Susan would have liked them. She was, Bridget thought, rather more like Susan herself in her Captain Susan mood. Colin and Elspeth didn’t know Susan, but they recognised that Dorothea had taken charge.

They were well away from the confusion of the jetty, and Dorothea was pulling strongly toward _Sea-bear,_ before Elspeth ventured, “Bridget realised that you were just putting it on. I fell for it I’m afraid, so did Colin. You’re a brilliant actress.”

“Yes, well there’s some excuse for you. You’ve barely known me two weeks.”

The children could not tell if Dorothea’s shortness was due to the rowing or to something else. Dot’s eyes caught Bridget’s, but she said nothing more.

“What will I do with the flowers?” asked Colin.

“Better give them to Peggy. I was beastly enough to her, I suppose.”

* * *

 

“So what do we think?” asked Bridget almost ceremonially. The ship’s children had decided to keep their heads well down for the rest of the day, but could not resist another conclave at bedtime. Bridget assured them that Titty was not very likely to “Drop them in it.” 

“Dad’s put them on watch two by two.  He must think something might happen.” said Colin.

“Should we stay awake, do you think?” Bridget asked.

“He’s going to bed himself. It’ll be OK. What could they arrest us for? Saving someone’s life? Dot’s giving a false address?” Elspeth spoke rhetorically.

“I heard Dad say it probably wasn’t a false address. Dot said she’s chosen one to sound probable and there’s a Queen’s Road in most towns. Dad said it would be worth keeping an eye to see what turns up.”

“I wonder how they’re going to do that? Send a letter saying _Send anything with a foreign stamp to the Admiralty or the police and don’t ask any more questions?_ Do you think anyone would?” Bridget asked.

“It isn’t any stranger than what we’re doing.” Elspeth pointed out. “Nancy is Peggy’s sister, isn’t she?”

“Yes, why?”

“I heard her saying to Dorothea _Nancy couldn’t have done it half so well._ What does that mean?”

“You’re absolutely brilliant.”

“Thank you. So were you.” said Elspeth, plainly confused.

“No, I mean, that’s Peggy’s way of telling Dorothea that Dorothea was brilliant. It also means she’s sorry she ever doubted Dorothea and it’s quite alright Dot’s being beastly to her about the breakfast and the rescue and not sticking up for her and that, well, basically things are alright again.” Bridget explained.

“It wouldn’t have worked in the slightest if we _hadn’t_ all been fooled and worried.” Elspeth suggested.

“We don’t know that it has now.” said Colin, abruptly. “The pilot could have been giving a false address just as much as Dot.”

“Pretty revolting to go through all that for duff information.” said Bridget.

“I saw her throw the hankie over-board.” added Elspeth.

“Let’s go to sleep.” suggested Bridget. “They are sure to be tired and cranky tomorrow, if they’ve been up half the night. No need for us to be tired too.”

 

****


	21. Use for a comic

Dick checked the lights for the third time and sat down in the cockpit again. Titty waited for him to speak.

“I say, Titty.”

“Yes.” said Titty. No wonder Nancy seemed to say “Spit it out, Professor” on such a regular basis. She wondered if she should say it herself, but Dick was probably working up to one of those things that one did not quite feel comfortable discussing with Nancy. Nancy, like John, would listen but then try to solve your problem for you. Acting like either of them would not help Dick now.

“When you were treading water, did you find it more difficult? The Baltic is supposed to be less salty, because of the amount of fresh water run-off. It would be less dense than normal sea water. So did you find it harder to float?”

“It seemed about the same as treading water normally is. But then I normally do swim in fresh water.” Titty had the distinct impression that Dick was still working up to saying something that made him feel awkward.

“It was still brave of you to get in the water. You had no real way of telling what debris was under the surface. You could easily have been caught up in something. The blighter didn’t even thank you. Not once. Nor Peggy, although you took the biggest risk.”

“You saw that filthy thing Bridget picked out of the bin. All the things you hear…”

“They’re all true, aren’t they?” said Dick, “People keep saying things can’t be that bad, it’s all rhetoric, Hitler doesn’t really mean it. Even my parents say that. There are quite a lot of German archaeologists you know, and they come to London for conferences and things and my parents entertain them. That’s one of the reasons they were so keen for Dorothea to learn German at school, and why she speaks it so much better than me. So they turn up to dinner, and the ones in good positions are probably in with the Nazis and they have good manners and are quite charming to Mother and Dorothea and they’re quite sound in their area of archaeology so Father thinks they’re quite decent. But then you get them onto something else and they start spouting their race clap-trap, and you realise they’ll happily ignore any amount of evidence if it doesn’t fit their theory.”

“But don’t most people do that?” asked Titty, “Ignore what doesn’t suit them?”

“Yes, in everyday life. Captain Flint does it a great deal, when you think about it but he’s honest about it. He either listen when you give him the evidence, or he admits he’s just going to do what he thinks best anyway. He may not be good scientist, but he’s good man.”

“Is archaeology a science? I always thought it was more like history.”  Titty asked.

“Well, you’re looking at material evidence and using it to disprove theories as well as support them. You can’t do experiments the way you can in chemistry and physics, but then you can’t in astronomy either. You can still sometimes make predictions that can be falsified.”

“Don’t you want to find things that support ideas, not disprove them?” she asked.

“If you find evidence that supports your theory, it’s helpful of course, but it can never be as conclusive as showing that a theory can’t be true and you’ve got to find a new theory.” Dick saw Titty looking puzzled.

“Look, those archaeologists at my parents’ house. They could find all sorts of example of great German men of science or literature or great German athletes and use it to support their case for Aryan superiority. It doesn’t matter how many examples they put forward to support their case. If you point out to them how well Jesse Owens did in the Olympics two years ago or that Marie Curie won two Nobel prizes in two different sciences or that Einstein is Jewish as well as being German – well, Jewish parents anyway, which is what the Nazis think important, you’ve undermined their theory entirely – Germans can’t always be better.”

“Did you try it?” she asked.

“Of course I did.” Dick said indignantly. Titty reached out and squeezed his hand in apology, then lost her nerve and fiddled with her hair clasp.

“What happened?”

“Oh they were polite enough but just changed the topic. Complimented Mother on the food or something. This pilot wasn’t even polite.”

Dick paused and continued.

“He certainly didn’t pass the sister test.”

“Sister test?”

Dick grinned, almost despite himself.

“Roger’s phrase, not mine. Haven’t you heard him use it?”

“No.” said Titty, but she was beginning to have her suspicions. There had been a school friend of Roger’s before Christmas, who had seemed always to have a pleasant word for her when he called round to see Roger. He had even brought her a bunch of flowers, which he passed off as an impulsive purchase. In January, he had seemed to disappear from Roger’s life. She told Dick about this, keeping the name to herself. Dick nodded.

“He mentioned something in a letter, about that time. It’s the first time I heard him use the phrase. Saw him use the phrase, I mean. _Pleasant enough chap but you_ _wouldn’t let him go out with your sister.”_

“So,” Titty began to enquire, “what did he actually..”

“I don’t think it’s fair of me to tell you. That is, if Roger had mentioned anything to me, which he may or may not have done.”

“Fair enough,” said Titty, who was enjoying her unexpected glimpse into Dick’s internal world. Should she say anything more, or would that lead to embarrassment? Maybe he was just being considerate when he danced with her in Copenhagen. She compromised. Now the hair clasp was broken and tangled in her hair.

“In general,” she asked, “what sort of thing would constitute a fail in the sister test?”

“Apart from sacrificing truth to ideology? Which, to be fair, is probably only my opinion. It’s hard to say really. It depends on the brother – and on the sister. Dishonesty of course. Selfishness. Lack of respect. Anything that’s likely to hurt the sister. I hadn’t really thought about exact criteria, to be honest. Look, do you want me to have a go at that hair-pin affair?”

“Yes, please.” She slide closer to him on the seat and turned her head so he could reach. “Dot’s lucky.”

“I let her down rather badly today. I should have trusted her.”

“It is, as you’ve just pointed out, a brother’s job to be protective. I didn’t even have that excuse.” Titty was very conscious of how close he was, his hands  gentle on her hair.

“You didn’t seem as annoyed as Peggy. I wondered if you had worked something out. Intuition, perhaps.” he said.

“I just didn’t want a row.” Titty confessed. “It’s a family failing. The only ones who don’t mind too much are Roger and Bridget.”

“As failings go, it’s a pretty good one. There you are, but I’m afraid it’s broken. I could try to mend it with a bit of wire or something if you liked.”

“Thank you.” She turned to smile at him.

“Do you have a pin?” Mac had been sitting on his bunk doing something a book, a pencil and a scrap of paper. Both Dick and Titty became uneasily aware that, quietly as they had been talking, the night itself was quiet, with _Sea-bear_ riding easily at anchor and only the gentle lapping of the water. How much of the conversation had he heard? Had they said anything to be embarrassed about?

“What sort of pin? Safety pin? Drawing pin? Would a needle do?” asked Titty

“A needle would be excellent.” said Mac. Titty started to go below to fetch the little sewing kit Susan had given her.

“Could you fetch that comic from the table in the cabin, please?” Mac continued, “It has probably got enough letters for what we want and it will save time if you don’t have to buy a newspaper.”

“Buy a newspaper?” Titty asked handing over the comic and the needle.

“Yes, all I do is put a hole under each letter I want, like this.” Mac showed them, “and all the recipient does is hold it up to the light.”

“And you’ve already put it in code.” said Dick, watching Mac carefully.

“Was that a lucky guess or could you tell in some way?” asked Mac.

“Both really. I mean, anyone could predict that you would, but the frequencies of the letters you are pricking out are all wrong for English too.”

“This is a code Titty’s father gave me just in case, and I don’t imagine it’s one of their better ones, but then this isn’t very important information.”

“What is it? If we can ask?” Titty asked.

Mac countered with a question. “What do you think it might be?”

“Telling them about the pilot.” said Dick, “although it’s pretty obvious that Germany is re-arming so they must be training more pilots somehow.”

“Yes, I don’t think even the location of his airbase will be news, still it might just be useful.” Mac agreed.

“The other thing will be to intercept any post to the address Dot gave in case the pilot does send anything, if it is a real address.” Titty said.

“It wouldn’t have to be real – you could just get the post-office to forward it somewhere. It might be easier if it wasn’t, then it wouldn’t get mixed up with normal post for people who live there.” Dick pointed out. “They could send false information back pretending to be Dot.”

“If its peace time they can’t send much information because Dot wouldn’t know much. If there’s a war letters won’t get through anyway.” said Titty.

“I’ll agree it doesn’t look promising,” said Mac, “but we’ll let the people who are paid to make those decisions make them. In the meantime, Dick can take this to the post –office in the next town along the coast tomorrow morning and post it to my good friend so his little lad can practise his German. If there’s any query or anyone notices the holes, Titty’s sister picked it out of a bin at the railway station. You can name the town, the station, anything, but you know nothing of any holes.”

“I’m very short-sighted, short-sighted people might not notice that sort of thing.” Dick grinned.


	22. Domestic interlude

** Mrs. Blackett’s not –quite-a-diary **

My dearest Bob,

 It’s been quite a long time since I felt the need to write anything down. I still feel as if I’m telling you everything that’s happened as its happening. Looking back in this book, I realise I’ve not written much since I had to take Nancy and Peggy away from school. Yes, I know I’m just delaying the moment when I switch out the light and miss you more than ever.

Peggy is fine. I’ve had a postcard of the little mermaid in Copenhagen. I’m not worrying about her; although it’s probably just as well she’s on holiday from the post-office at the moment.

And Nancy keeps telling me that I shouldn’t worry about her either. She’s right in many ways, of course.

But…… she keeps wandering around the house opening and shutting doors and cupboards as if she’s looking for something, they way you always used to just after you came home. Half the time she has no idea she’s doing it. (Rather like that friend you brought home from France with you – the one who played the piano so well and Aunt Maria took the dislike to because he said the most cutting things in a deadpan voice and later she found out he was the Duke of Denver’s son and kept asking when I was going to invite him back,– except that you friend used to move things about and it took us ages to find some of them.)

In your friend’s case it was shell-shock. I realise that now. Nancy says that nothing really bad has happened to her. I asked John separately, when Nancy couldn’t hear, and what he says more or less confirms Nancy’s version of events, only everything that happened is John’s fault according to John. He apologises about three times each day. I do wish he would stop, but can’t very well tell him so! Both are clearly being very circumspect in what they tell me, which makes the story very confusing. There are so many someones and somethings and somewheres.

I’ve had my suspicions about Nancy’s feelings for John for at least two or three years now – I can’t tell you when that started. As a mother I’d like to think I knew before she knew herself, but I doubt that. She always has been very good at keeping secrets.  I wasn’t so sure about John’s feelings. Oh, I’m sure about John. He’s just about the perfect son-in-law, if only he can stop the apologising.  He won’t boss her about and he won’t bore her by letting himself be bossed, so _that’_ s alright. I just wasn’t sure about how John felt about Nancy. Well, now I am. It was absolutely obvious the moment I picked them up at the station; you just have to see his eyes when they’re together. You and I of all people know that childhood friends can and do marry and live happily ever after. Only, I do so wish we had more of the ever after together.

Of course, it’s absolutely obvious to almost everyone else as well (except perhaps Nancy who is very pointedly keeping her own counsel at the moment). Couple that with the fact that they arrived holding a very young baby and all babies look much the same anyway (except ours who looked quite different and altogether more characterful, obviously) and everyone around the lake (except the visitors) has come to one of two conclusions. Actually, they’ve all come to one conclusion, but there are two opinions.

 One camp believes that John is wholly to blame. Being a degenerate southerner/ partly foreign (Does an Australian mother count? I’ve never thought of Mary as foreign.)/a sailor it was only to be expected that he took advantage of poor Nancy by herself in London. However, that strand of local opinion absolves me from much blame, with me being a mere woman and unused to the ways of the world. It infuriates Nancy, naturally, but no-one says anything directly to her. I pity the first person who does.

Those who hold the other opinion heap blame on my head and on Nancy’s, just as high as it will go.  Our daughter, if you please, is a wanton hussy who has seduced John. The whole business is attributed to my lack of moral guidance and her general wildness. Nancy takes it with a reasonable appearance of good humour and points out to John that she forfeited any right to have the neighbours trust her honesty when she hid the Callums from Aunt Maria in the Dog’s Home.

(continued the next morning)

There is now an even worse of this version of this theory. I suspect it originates at Crag Gill and is intended more as a dig at Aunt Maria than anything else. This version has me encouraging Nancy to seduce John to inveigle him into marriage For all her lack of vanity, Nancy is very proud and I am afraid this would be enough to make her give John his marching orders.  News of this rumour arrived _via_ the man who drives the butcher’s van who told Cook early this morning. Cook came storming into my room to tell me about it, and inform me that under no circumstances would anything induce her ever to hand in her notice. This is her reaction to the butcher’s-van-man’s opening piece of advice and I have to say that under the circumstances it _is_ something of a relief. Words were said at the back door and it appears we shall have to resign ourselves to vegetarian meals for the foreseeable future. Cook has agreed with me about the absolute necessity of keeping this from Nancy. Fortunately, Nancy was in the bath when this happened. Ten minutes earlier and she would have been in the kitchen boiling feeding bottles and so on.

John had already gone across to the village to raid his post-office savings account to repay some money one of the senior officers lent him. He is wearing a pair of your old shorts from the campaign in the Near East, as none of Jim’s old trousers are likely to stay up and, of course, Jim took all the new ones with him. If the dry-cleaners can restore John’s suit to usable condition I shall be most surprised.  I shall take David out for his morning walk to avoid Nancy meeting anyone and hearing the latest spite from Crag Gill. Between them John and Nancy have got the old perambulator back into more or less working order. There is more than enough to keep her busy here – a baby does make a lot of washing and really the mangle is getting a bit of a struggle now for Cook and for me.  

I still miss you dreadfully every day, but it seems harder to keep a brave face when I see Nancy and John together, especially with David.

* * *

 

 

** Domestic interlude **

Nancy quite enjoyed the challenge of the mangle, although she would have to remember to put it back on a slightly less vigorous setting before anyone else used it. It was satisfyingly effective and there was something satisfying, too, about hanging the squares of white cloth on the line, like a row of flags. Hanging her navy frock and the other oddments of washing at the far end of the line across the old stable-yard would avoid spoiling the effect.

 In her opinion, John had been keeping too much distance between them. They had spent very little time alone together in the two days they had been back at Beckfoot. Perhaps it was just that. Last night it had been her turn to look after David, and Nancy was very much aware that she had been a bedraggled creature in Peggy’s old dressing gown and pyjamas earlier that morning when she had rushed down after John to the boat-house with the letter to Jan and Anna for him to post. John had already been paddling the rowing boat out of the boat house.

Nancy thought furiously as she walked back up the lawn from the boat house and went to run her bath. With anybody else and about anything else, she generally decided what she wanted to happen, made a plan and made it happen. She knew exactly what she wanted to happen. But, and it was a very big but, she would not and probably could not make it happen. Nancy had long ago realised that no amount of quick talking or imaginative arguments would make John act against his better judgement any anything that mattered. No one but John was going to make up John’s mind for him.

“If I could boss him into this, he wouldn’t be John and I wouldn’t love him half so much. And if I was prepared to try to twist his arm, I wouldn’t deserve …Well, I’m not that’s all.” She realised she had spoken her last thoughts aloud. There was no-one to hear so it didn’t matter. She had let the bath get rather full, so she made the most of it and washed her hair.

Nancy had spent a few minutes after her bath seeing which of Peggy’s go-to-work frocks suited her best.  She had come to certain other conclusions. She wouldn’t try to make John’s mind up for him – that was definite, and if anything was going to be said, or even asked, he would have to do the saying or asking. Maybe that was pride. If it was, it was. That didn’t mean that she couldn’t find a way to let him know that, if he did have anything he might want to tell her, she might like to hear it.

Now, when John came round the corner of the house, she dropped the wet washing back in the basket and went to greet him. She would settle for a quick peck on the cheek, she decided as she crossed the yard. Not too embarrassing if it wasn’t quite the way he thought things should go.

John, it seemed, didn’t think a peck on the cheek suited the situation.

It was quite a few minutes and more than a few kisses later before either of them found any inclination for conversation.

“So you _will_ kiss me without being chased by Nazi agents?” he teased. There really weren’t too many replies she could make to this. The brutally honest _I was afraid you never really meant it and had thought better of it_ had clearly been overtaken by events and she never, never would have said it anyhow.

“So?” he prompted, tightening his arms around her slightly. She had thought for too long.

“Oh, I thought I better hadn’t be too demanding.” she said demurely and reached up a finger to touch his cheekbone. “You seem to have found some sort of trouble  in Rio. That’s going to bruise.” She tilted her head to one side. “It adds a certain rakish charm.”

“Glad you approve. The frock suits you by the way. Do you think Peggy will mind you borrowing?”

“Probably not. How do you know it is hers anyway?”

“It’s not blue and the collar is lacy.”

“We’re wandering off the point – I’ve seen you fight, John Walker, what I want to know is what sort of condition the other fellow is in and when will Sammy be coming round to take your details.”

“The other fellow doesn’t have a mark on him.”

Nancy looked at him in astonishment. He hugged her. “Oh my love, I’d fight anyone in a fair fight for your sake, but this was a kid Bridget’s age. He might have intended to give me a black eye, but I don’t think he could reach any higher. What could I do, but stick my hands in my pockets?”

“Cowardly little beast, thumping someone who he knew couldn’t fight back.”

“Quite plucky really. If I was the complete rotter he’s evidently been told I was, I might have hit back, or complained to the police or something. And it was the one blow really. He didn’t carry on when I made it plain I wasn’t fighting. **”** said John.

 “If only someone would actually ask.” said Nancy, “Or at least give us a chance to explain.”

“We’ll probably get our chance at some point. Where’s your mother?”

“She’s taken David for a walk. I think she’s missing father pretty badly at the moment.”

“Bound to be.” John murmured into Nancy’s still damp hair, holding her very close for a few moments before they finished hanging out the washing together.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Death of one of my own characters. Some violence.

 

Roger was not in the slightest bit fooled by the story of a chance met Englishman, but he was quite happy to go along with it. For one thing, it allowed him to give as good as he got when Cavendish started to needle him.  Roger was not surprised when Cavendish quickly gave up the needling, although Susan worried that this meant Cavendish was feeling worse than he let on.

“Come on, Susan.” Roger said privately, “You know how John can be…. Not exactly a prig, but… if Cavendish said anything not quite proper to, or about, you or Nancy I can just see how he would react. As long as John rose to the bait, Cavendish would bait him.”

Despite herself, Susan could not resist a grin. Still, she and John had agreed long ago that they would never let Roger give one of them cheek without standing up for each other and she could hardly let him get away with this.

“Who drops his friends as soon as they show any interest in Titty?” she asked.

“It’s not the interest in Titty that I minded, it was the interest in other girls at the same time. You know how easily hurt she is.”

Susan had to admit the point and, with Cavendish keeping largely to his bunk, the voyage around the coast of Denmark progressed smoothly. They used the engine quite a lot, more than Jim really liked but, as Roger pointed out “It does an engine good to be used. A lot of engines work better the more you use them. So long as we keep well topped up with fuel, it’s just as well really.”

Cavendish seemed highly relieved when they were clear of German waters and into Dutch waters, once more under sail with a light north-westerly wind. Jim, on the other hand, was growing more anxious as the wind dropped, the sea became an oily swell and they slid quietly into a bank of thick fog. For the next four hours they continued with just enough wind to let them steer. Susan had taken the tiller while Jim yet again marked their probable position on the chart.

“Can Peggy really tell who is signalling?” Jim asked abruptly.

“I don’t see why not – people can recognise handwriting. If I get a letter in semaphore, I can usually tell who it is from even before I’ve read it. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if it is from Nancy or Peggy just at a glance, but then I can’t always tell their handwriting apart either, if I just look at the address. It’s like speaking on the phone. People can’t tell Titty and me apart if we just say hello, but they can if we say even quite a short sentence. Although come to think about it, Peggy always does know, even on a bad line.”

“And Peggy does the best impressions.” Roger joined in, handing up mugs of tea. “Not just bird noises, but people too. How they say things and the tone of voice and everything. She notices every little thing like that.”

“But in Morse?” Jim asked

“If she says she did, she did.”  said Susan with finality.

 “Roger..” said Susan after a pause.

“The kettle wasn’t quite boiling, was it?” he asked, surveying his own mug with distaste.

“No, it bally well wasn’t!” came an irate voice from the fore-cabin.

“Take no notice, Roger, it’s warm and wet and that’s all that matters.” said Jim, adding pointedly, “I’m all for crew who make tea unasked.”

They drank in silence.

“That’s not a light ship.” said Jim suddenly.

Susan and Roger looked.

“It’s a distress signal.” said Susan a few seconds later.

“Ignore it!” came the voice from the fore-cabin.

“Of course not!” said Susan.

“The thing about distress signals is that one fine day you might be the one sending them.” said Jim.

“Beastly cheek. How would you have liked it if John had left you in Helsinki?” said Roger.

“Ask them what their problem is, Roger.” said Jim.

“They aren’t saying.” said Roger after a few minutes. “Just repeating the distress signal.”

“We don’t want to run into the same problem as they did.” said Jim, “take the tiller for a moment Susan.” and he bent over the chart again. “We should be fine for another mile in that direction.”

“I don’t think they’re that far away.” said Roger eyes still on the light.

“I’m changing course towards them, but approaching cautiously.” said Jim. “Can you remember what was in this direction before the fog came in, Susan?”

“Some fishing boats? Maybe just one?” Susan’s voice came uncertainly from forward.

“Have you got a life-line on?”

“Aye sir!” She had been even been calling him Jim on matters to do with the ship since the day after they left Riga. Jim had privately welcomed it, but made no comment now. He suspected that Susan was now making a point, Susan – fashion, to Cavendish. 

They slid on, everyone’s ears strained, ship silent except for the fog horn and, between the hoots, a strange rustling and banging noise from the cabin.

“Either Cavendish is coming to join us, or you’ve got a really bad rat problem.” Roger said quietly to Jim. It wasn’t much of a joke but Jim’s mouth twitched. More hooting from _Sea bear._

Not a sound from the other ship. Bells were quieter of course.

“The only rat I’ve really known socially belonged to my friend Joe.” Roger went on. “Quite an endearing little chap – Ratty I mean, not Joe. We all got quite fond of him.”

“Well, I don’t think we’ll ever get fond of Cavendish.” More hooting

“Cheer up Jim, only two more days.”

More hooting. Still not a sound from the other vessel.

“They’ve stopped signalling.” Susan called from forward, her voice sharp.

“That’s as close as we’re getting then.” said Jim. “We’ll heave to and signal them again. In fact, there’s no wind to speak of now so we’ll have the sails down and stow them. Ask them what the problem is.”

“They should be near enough to hear if we try shouting.” suggested Roger as Cavendish joined them on deck. Cavendish was wearing John’s old oilskin coat. It had been passed on to Roger who had also outgrown it, and Susan had brought it with her as a spare. Trust Susan to think of something like that. So that was what the rustling sound had been. The blighter had been going through their things. Roger decided it was not the time to object. He’d tell Cavendish exactly what they thought of him later.

“Are they still there, even?” Roger asked as soon as the sails were stowed.

“I think so – I can just see a sort of outline of sails.” said Susan.

“I can hear something over there.”

“Should we shout?”

“Try again!”

“Fog horn, Roger.”

“Cavendish, do you speak Dutch?”

“No.”

“Well, are there any other languages you could shout in?”

“ Fog horn or bell, Jim? We’re not underway, but we’re not anchored.”

“Fog horn. There was a case about it.”

“Aye sir.”

“Russian, Finnish, German, Swedish and French and I’m not shouting in any of them. If they were going to shout back they would, regardless of language. We shouldn’t be getting involved.”

“There’s a boat.  Starboard bow. With sails up. Not all that big.” shouted Susan.

“Any one on it?”

“Several moving about, I can hear them.”

Cavendish followed him more cautiously, scowling. Roger made his way forward. He really should get the engine going in case it was wanted for immediate manoeuvring, but if there was any chance that someone was swimming around down there or holding on to a piece of  wreckage, he had better not. Still, he had checked the stern tube and given a turn of the greaser below the cockpit floor before he joined Susan.   Slowly the two boats drifted towards each other although the sails of the other boat were hanging limply and you would have said that there wasn’t wind enough to move even a dinghy. Roger helped Susan put the fenders over the side. They were close enough that Roger might have read the name through the thick fog, but the writing was in a strange alphabet.

“They’re Russians.” he said almost to himself.

  “It a trap.” Yelled Cavendish, taking a step backwards and whipping something out from under the oilskins.

Susan had seen it done in the kind of adventurous films that Bridget favoured, but it was quite different seeing it in real life. Two of the Russians swung themselves aboard on ropes from their own cross-trees.

The first man and Cavendish were facing each other warily. Both were holding knives.  Roger found himself fairly evenly matched with the second man.

Susan looked around for something with which to push the other boat further away as it continued to drift closer. She glanced behind her. Jim had let go of the tiller. Probably starting the engine. How quickly could he do it?  Four more of them were waiting to jump aboard when they got the chance. Still keeping her eyes on the Russian boat she sidled along the side of the cabin until she could grab one of _Imp’s_ oars. She had to look down to untie it. She heard the engine start. Goblin lurched sideway and bumped the other ship. She all but fell.  Her ankle was twisted, but would take her weight well enough. Two more of the men had managed to board. The oar was more likely to be useful as a weapon, now. Goblin continued to pull away from the other boat. That was the most important thing. Maybe they didn’t have an engine at all. The two new Russians faced her along the side of the deck. Luckily the blade of the oar was pointing towards them. The important thing was to keep them away from the cockpit with the engine and the tiller. So long as Goblin’s crew did that they still had control of the ship.

There was a loud splash on the port side and she risked a glance sideways. The man with the knife was overboard but Cavendish was clutching a wound.  She could see the bleeding came from an artery. One of the Russian in front scrambled over the cabin roof to Cavendish.  Susan’s eyes were back on the Russian in front of her almost instantly but it had been a mistake to look away at all. He had grabbed the blade of the oar. He was so much heavier and stronger than she was that it made little difference that she was holding the “right” end of the oar. He would have her overboard if she did not let go. She did so, jerking the oar forwards and to one side as she did so in the forlorn hope of unbalancing him. It had little of the intended effect but allowed her to step back and deflect the return sweep of the oar, aimed at her head, with her arm. The pain was immense, and for a fraction of a second blotted out everything else. The man with the oar took a step back to recover from the blow that had met less resistance than expected and another as his foot skidded on a knife that had been dropped.

When Jim saw Susan hit, he nearly let go to the tiller and went forward to help her, however stupid it might be. What stopped him was the sound he had been dreading, an engine starting in the other boat. It coughed and died, but at any moment it might start again. If he couldn’t get to Susan.. He had to do something quickly.

“Just back up, Susan. Don’t look round, just edge backwards.”

Had she heard? Could she move? How injured was she?  She moved backward quickly and deftly. Roger had finally managed to shove his opponent into the sea with a noisy splash and, with a bloody nose, was coming up after the man with the oar, who was still intent on following Susan although his boots seemed to give him less grip than her rubber soled shoes. The sound came from further in the distance of another false start, another splutter, the engine dying a second time. Roger attempted to push the man with the oar overboard, nearly succeeded and made him drop the oar on to the cabin roof.

Susan’s arm still felt as if as strange hot and cold fire ran through it, but she managed, after what seemed to her ages and was in fact a few seconds, to scramble into the cockpit.

“Can you take the tiller? Just keep her as she is.” said Jim before scrambling out to help Roger. The second Russian re-joined his comrade having searched Cavendish, stuffing a scrap of paper in some inner pocket. A third time, the Soviet engine started in the distance, ran for a few minutes and stopped again. Jim and Roger found they still had a stiff fight on their hands, but as Roger said later, “We wanted them in the sea and they wanted to stay on Goblin, and there is a lot more sea than _Goblin._ ”

After Jim had taken the tiller again, Susan desperately wanted to lie down. There was something else she had to do first. It would be safer to crawl with the cabin roof so slippery. Her arm was broken and would not take her weight. No crawling then. Amazingly, she still had the safety line on. She slid herself along edge of the cabin roof, pushing with her feet. She reached Cavendish. A glance told her all she really needed to know, but she made herself crouch down, check his pulse, close his eyes. That was the right thing. Her arm hurt so much. Ignore it, Student Nurse Walker, ignore it until you’ve done your job. She put his legs together with her good arm and straightened them, folded his arms across his chest. The next thing – she tried to remember the next thing through the hot buzzing feeling in her head.  She had to go back to the cockpit but there was something else she had to do first. She couldn’t remember. She felt an arm around her, heard Roger’s voice coming from a long way off.

“Come and lie down.” Roger said, “Just shuffle along the cabin roof on your backside, it’ll be safer.”

“He’s dead.”

“Yes, shuffle along just a little bit more Susie. Come on. Jim’s really worried about you.”

“It’s only my arm that’s broken.”

“Yes, we’ll help you down into the cabin. Just a bit more to the cockpit.”

Suddenly she was sick. Roger held her patiently. Her head felt a bit clearer now. She was rather glad it was Roger, not Jim with her.

Even with Jim and Roger lifting her, getting from the cabin roof to the cockpit and then to Roger’s bunk was very painful.  Roger returned to the cockpit and conferred with Jim. One of them went forward. She could not tell how much later Roger came down into the cabin again. Not long, she thought. Under her instructions, Roger cut the sleeve away from the injured part of her arm, confirmed that the skin was unbroken over the fracture and splinted the arm with the wooden spoon and the wooden spatula from the galley.

“At least they’re nice and smooth and won’t splinter.” Roger said reassuringly.

“Make sure Jim heads straight for England won’t you?” she asked anxiously.

“Of course we will.” said Roger, “what knot should I use on bandages?”

“Reef – it’s nice and flat.”

“I think he wanted to get you to a hospital as soon as possible, but really we can’t explain this to authorities in another country. Who knows how long they will detain us? It will be bad enough when we get to England.”

“There’s a number to telephone when we get back – John gave it to me.” said Susan. “Roger?”

“Yes?”

“You know you can’t leave Cavendish where he is?”

“Yes. We’re going to lash the tiller and move him when you are asleep. We’ll put him back in his bunk.” Roger replied.

“Do it sooner rather than later and don’t worry about me.” said Susan. “For one thing it’s more respectful. For another – well it will be easier if you do it sooner. “

“I’m going to have to go up and be look-out now, Susan. I’ve wedged you in with pillows and a sail. You should be OK even if we do have to dodge about a bit. We thought we heard their engine before but we seem to have lost them.  We’ve got a bit of wind now, but we won’t hoist a sail until we’ve got Cavendish into one of the forward bunks. Call out to Jim if you need anything, and one of us will come down as soon as we can. We daren’t use the foghorn for a little while yet.”

Susan gave a faint smile. “Peter Duck.” she said.

“Peter Duck” Roger agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Many, many thanks to Fergus Mason, who knows a great deal more about boats than I do and who has been very generous with his time in explaining things, especially the ways in which marine engines can malfunction and how much Goblin’s engine could achieve. If, despite this kindness, I have still made a bit of a galoot of myself, it is entirely my own fault.


	24. Chapter 24

   

** Lunchtime at Beckfoot **

The perambulator had a squeaky wheel, and they heard Mrs. Blackett long before she turned in at the gate.

 “Is there any chance we can get some time together to talk for more than about five minutes?” John asked her hurriedly.

“We could take David for another walk this afternoon.” she suggested.

“Maybe not on the public highway, and maybe without a baby?”

“ _Just_ talk?” her eyes danced

“Maybe not _just_ talk.” He grinned.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” and she turned away to greet her mother.

“Considering all the things Peggy and I did with it when we were younger, it’s amazing you can get it to move at all.” said Nancy, crossing the stable yard. John had muttered something about having left a parcel in the boat house and slipped away discretely.

“I don’t remember it being such hard work.” her mother admitted. “But I daresay the exercise did me good. I wish your friend Dick was here to get rid of the squeak though. I know you and John did your best, but Dick seems to be able to do anything with a random assortment of bits and pieces picked from an average garden shed.”

“Did David behave himself? Did you meet anyone?” said Nancy, manoeuvring the perambulator back into its new space next to Rattletrap. “You know if you wanted to hide anything this pram would be the ideal place. Look how deep it is.”

“It was the fashion of the time.” said her mother rather vaguely. “Yes, he seemed quite happy. Babies always are happier outdoors. You and Peggy certainly were.”

“Still are.” Nancy grinned and held out her arms for David.

“You know, if you ever want to convince people he isn’t yours, you’ll have to stop doing that.”

“What?”

“Picking him up like that.”

“What am I doing wrong? How should I be holding him?”

“You’re doing it very well, Nancy and quite naturally. various people have noticed that, probably the day you arrived at the station. I realise that between the two of you, you and John have had to hold David continuously for the best part of two days and I said so to Mary Swainson just now, so I hope I’ve begun to do some good. I told Mary more or less all about David and she as good as said she’d put in a good word for you whenever she could. Except I suppose I shouldn’t keep calling her Swainson now she’s married for nearly two years.”

 “I won’t hold David badly, just to make people think better of me, or leave the work of him to other people. Anna and Jan saved us from, well, I don’t know what exactly, but it would have been bad. This is trivial next to their problems.”

Her mother stopped in the middle of the yard and looked at her very directly.

“I probably don’t say this to you often enough, Nancy, but I’m very proud of you. Your father would be too.”

* * *

 

Slightly to Mrs Blackett’s surprise, John really had left a parcel in the boat house and arrived at the lunch table in a new pair of shorts, plimsolls and a shirt that did not billow out round him.

“ _Goblin_ should be back any day, but I really don’t think I should keep borrowing.” he explained.

“Can you tell me where this is? My geography isn’t all it should be.” Mrs Blackett passed a picture postcard from Peggy across to John.

“A little way along the coast from Rostock. Tiny place. I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of it. I bet Nancy hasn’t either.”

“I hadn’t.” Nancy admitted. “She doesn’t say much.”

“Some countries only let you put a few words on.” John said.

“Still, _All well, weather fine, getting lots done, love Peggy?”_ Nancy said.

“I’m rather relieved. Lots of surveying and no excitement is exactly what we want to hear.” John replied.

“It seems rather unfair that you both missed out on so much sailing when you probably care about it the most.” said Mrs Blackett. “I know it’s not the same thing at all, but why don’t you take the Amazon out this afternoon? You’ve got a good wind and it’s not raining.”

“It hardly seems fair to leave you with David.” said Nancy, tentatively. John could see that she was tempted. He said nothing.

“David and I will be fine.” said Mrs Blackett, “Take your tea with you and don’t come back until sunset. I might invite a couple of people round for a cup of tea this afternoon. I’ll manage much better without you two there. Everyone knows I talk too much, so I might as well put it to good use. Oh, don’t worry, John, I’ve got a very good grasp of what I must and must not artlessly let out.” She smiled at him and John thought he knew very well where Nancy got her ability to “read” other people quite so well from.

“Artlessly?” asked Nancy, “As in _well we’d rather keep this quiet but I don’t mind telling you_?”

“Exactly. So long as I don’t actually make them promise to keep it secret, I can pretty much guarantee they will tell at least one other person. Telling the doctor was no good, because he’s not that sort of person and doctors can’t gossip about patients anyway. Two people, three at the most, will be enough – it won’t do to over- do it.”

“Remember I’ve had measles.”

“Well of course, that’s why you needed a little sea cruise to perk you up. Very fortunate you were in the area to help the daughter of Bob’s old friend.”

“Father’s old friend?”

“Yes, I can hardly say _They were chased by Nazis through Berlin because they were carrying a secret something from somewhere to somewhere else._ Bob’s friend’s daughter wrote to me, I wrote to you in Helsinki. John came with you because I didn’t like the idea of you travelling alone and he speaks German. Susan had to stay behind because someone had to help with the boat.”

“That’s a pretty good story.” said John, “but why not your old friends?”

I’ve lived here my whole life, apart from a few months in London – everyone one would be suspicious if I came up with a friend no-one had heard of before. You won’t remember, Nancy, but your father had a few friends who came to stay on leave during and just after the war and caused a fair bit of local interest. Aunt Maria snubbed all of them, or tried to. In fact, that’s how she went to live in Harrogate in the end. She tried telling Bob that he mustn’t invite this person or that and he took no notice. It was his house by then after all. She was really rude to one poor chap who had shell shock. He was a bit cutting back. Then she threatened to leave and go and live in Harrogate. The next person he invited was an officer from another regiment who had been shot in the Near-East and was very keen on bird-watching. He had some ideas that Aunt Maria thought completely unacceptable but was quite happy to discuss them when Bob asked him about them. I couldn’t tell you if it was the ideas or the really battered old knickerbockers he used for bird-watching that upset her the most. Anyway, off she went to Harrogate in a huff and neither of us had asked her to leave. I was extremely grateful to the bird-watcher.”

“What were the ideas?” Nancy was plainly curious.

“Free secondary schools, more university places for women, women being just as intellectually capable as men.”

Nancy grinned. “Sounds a good chap. What happened to him?”

“Taught in a secondary school somewhere in Wales, married another teacher in the same school. We gradually lost touch.”

“It’s a bit ironic really.” said Nancy, “More stewed plums, mother?”

Her mother shook her head.

 “There are two more each for us then, John”

He passed his dish and she served him and then herself.

“What do you mean by ironic?” asked her mother.

“Well here this bird-watcher is, thoroughly good ideas – did this other teacher have a degree?”

“A first. I remember your father being pleased at that and managing to slip it into conversation with Aunt Maria.”

“One in the eye for the great-aunt. Anyway, here he is, dead keen on education for women and secondary education. Then he does the one thing guaranteed to stop her teaching.”

“Couldn’t she just get a job in a different school? Or he could?” asked John.

“I think they had two children eventually. She would want to look after them.” Her mother said.

Nancy looked up at them briefly. “It’s not that,” she said. “A lot of schools, a lot of counties expect women teachers to resign when they get married. If they don’t they get sacked anyway.” She chased the last plum around her dish with her spoon.  “I expect he would have been delighted for her to continue with her job, but she was in the one career where they couldn’t decide that for themselves.”

Nancy dealing as neatly as she could with her last plum stone, didn’t see John’s suddenly appalled expression.

“Well.” said her mother. “You two run off and make the best of the day. I’ll clear the table and then do a little telephoning. Be back about sunset. And Nancy, I know you couldn’t help having to borrow, but try not to ruin Peggy’s frock.”

Suddenly superstitious  Molly counted the stones, first in Nancy’s dish then in John’s. after they had left the room. Six in each. But then, Nancy had served the plums herself, so did it really mean anything? Everyone knew you couldn’t manipulate superstitions like that, so it probably meant nothing. Or did it mean everything? You never really knew with Nancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that really was the situation with teachers before the second world war.  
> The plums were the smaller and earlier little yellow plums that are very nice stewed, not full-sized Victoria plums, so John and Nancy aren’t being too greedy. They do seem a bit early, though so maybe Cook was using up the last of the bottled fruit from last year or the Beckfoot tree is so old it fruits unusually early, which happens with some elderly fruit trees. For anyone who doesn’t know, the rhyme goes “This year, next year, sometime, never, this year, next year…..” and supposedly tells you when you are going to marry. Unfortunately it was impossible to have "sailor" and "next year"!
> 
> It works with cherries, apricots and damsons too. Or perhaps it doesn’t work at all.


	25. Afternoon with an amazon pirate

 

For someone with who an hour earlier had wanted to talk, John was being strangely silent. Nancy had without asking turned south once they were clear of the mouth of the Amazon River. He might be just trying to find a way of saying something important. He had come back from Rio happy, as if he had made a decision. Now he was uncertain again.

“Something at lunch upset you?” she asked.

“It seems so unfair.”

“Aunt Maria? Mother having to deal with the gossip?”

“Married women having to resign from teaching. I hadn’t realised. That bird-watcher, having all those principles about equality for women and then stopping his wife from teaching just by marrying her.”

“He didn’t make the rules. She could have said no when he proposed. At least he let her make her own decision. Think how much worse it would be for her if he had decided to say nothing, thinking he knew best or that he couldn’t ask her to make a sacrifice and she really loved him all the time. At least he treated her as an equal and let her make her own choice.”  Nancy said all this with her eyes firmly on the sail and the little skull and cross-bones at the head of the mast, refusing to meet John eyes. Still, when you were sailing, the sailing came first. If her cheeks were very pink, it was probably just the wind.

“Maybe.” John’s voice sounded less unhappy.

“I’ve noticed something about you, John.”

“Yes?”

“Most the things that really anger you have something in common.”

“Unfairness.”

“Yes, and a lot of the things that really rile you are to do with unfairness to women in someway.”

“I suppose so.”

“It’s something I like about you. I suppose I’m biased, being a woman.”

“I had noticed.”

They exchanged grins. Nancy found herself once more the skipper of a happy crew.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked.

“Where would you like?”

“Somewhere where we won’t meet other people. Horseshoe Cove would do, or Wildcat Island.”

“Wildcat Island.”

“Wildcat Island it is.”

Peggy was no taller than Nancy, but had made the linen dress with a longish skirt.  In the harbour John made _Amazon_ fast.  He watched Nancy standing in _Amazon,_ inexpertly gathering up the skirt in her hands to keep it out of the water as she stepped ashore. He walked back into the water and held out his arms, unsure of her response. She made it as easy as she could for him to pick her up, but she was still unexpectedly heavy and he found it difficult to pretend carrying her was effortless. He made a point of carrying her a few good paces further than he needed before he put her down, keeping an arm around her waist as he did so.

“Thank you.” she said

“No trouble.” His breathing said otherwise, and he saw the glint of affectionate amusement in her eyes. “You realise this is just for special occasions, don’t you?”

“And this is a special occasion?” she asked.

“An Amazon pirate sailing about in a dress is an occasion all by itself, quite apart from anything else.” He drew her closer and kissed her. Perhaps she kissed him. It didn’t really matter.

Eventually, he fetched their shoes, a rug and the basket with the food and drink from _Amazon_ and they went to the camp. Nancy looked sadly at the little dry stone platform, barely six inches high. The sticks for perching had been blown away or rotted away some years ago. John hadn’t been there for two years, so he wasn’t sure.

“Poor Polly.” Nancy said, “He didn’t have much of an innings for a parrot, but Titty gave him a happy life. He wouldn’t have had half so much fun with Uncle Jim.”

“We don’t really know how old he was. Your uncle admitted that he didn’t really trust the man he got him from. Who would buy an old parrot when they could buy a young one? Maybe he did have his three score years and ten, or whatever it is with parrots.” John suggested, pulling out a few plants from between the stones of a fireplace. He was amused to see Nancy cheer up visibly at the idea.

“An _Amazon_ pirate, Terror of the Seas, is sentimental about a parrot?”

“I don’t know that you need to tell anyone else that.”

He stood up and wiped the dirt from his hands and smiled at her. “You might need to persuade me me.”

This time she definitely kissed him.

“That was very…. persuasive.”

Nancy chuckled as she went to fill the kettle.

“There should be plenty of firewood.” she said as she returned with the kettle. “We collected lots at Easter.” And she showed him the neat pile, topped by a neatly cut fragment of tarpaulin and carefully weighed down with stones on top. The sides were open to the air to let the wood dry.

“I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before.” commented John, building the fire.

“It was Titty’s idea, last summer.” said Nancy. “The stack we left over the winter had a hedgehog in it, still hibernating, we thought.  You can imagine how delighted Titty was. It’s probably the driest spot in the island over the winter.”

“Has he gone now?”

“I think so. At least, I expect it’s somewhere else on the island. Peggy said she couldn’t find him or her when she came for the afternoon a fortnight after we had gone.”

“It’s a long way for a hedgehog to swim.”

“Yes, Bridget thought it might have swum to Cormorant Island first, found no food and then carried on.”

“I didn’t know they could swim that well.”

“I’ve never seen a hedgehog swimming, but I’ve seen one go over a dry stone wall.” Nancy said. “They’ve got longer legs than you think under all those prickles.”

“How would it know the islands are there? I am surprised they can see that far.” John asked, hoping Nancy had not just noticed him using a second match.

“Well, I thought it had probably fallen in the lake where the edge was steep and hadn’t been able to climb out. They see about as well as Dick without his glasses. It’s certainly a newish arrival. We would have noticed if there was a hedgehog about the place for more than a year or two.”

“Poor hedgehog.” said John. The fire was going well now, so he sat down next to Nancy on the rug which she had spread out on the log they used as a bench to protect Peggy’s dress. Nancy wriggled a bit closer to him. They put their arms around each other.

“Lucky hedgehog. It could so easily have drowned before it got here.” Nancy said.

“I was thinking it must be lonely.”

She looked at him. “I probably wouldn’t put that idea in Bridget’s head if I were you. Or Titty’s for that matter.”

“You think they’d have us scouring the woods for a hedgehog friend?”

“The trouble is,” said Nancy, “we don’t know if this one is male or female.”

“Pretty awful if we brought back the wrong sort and they didn’t get on.”

“Or the right sort and they had a big family and ran out of food.” Nancy suggested. “That kettle isn’t going to boil very fast where you’ve put it.”

“What makes you think I intended it to?”

* * *

 

They did eventually have a mug of tea each and then a second mug and ate bread and butter and jam.

“Mother means it when she says she doesn’t want us back until sunset.” Nancy pointed out.

“She’s very….” John fished about in his mind for the word he wanted and couldn’t find it. He started he sentence again, “I can see where you get your ability to make plans from.”

Nancy hesitated and then said, blushing furiously, “There was a bit more in what she said at the station than I thought at the time.”

“Yes.” He agreed.

“Helsinki?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise how you felt at the time. I was beginning to worry that you didn’t care about me in that sort of way after all.”

“At the time,” he admitted, “I was very glad you didn’t realise. And still wasn’t sure how you felt.”

“If it was anyone but you,” she said looking him straight in the eyes, “I would be almost scared of how I feel.”

Silently, holding both her hands in his, he drew her to her feet.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It was all that needed saying.

Sometime later, they were standing under the lookout tree.  John’s mind had gone through a dozen things he should say, a dozen ways of asking what he wanted to ask. In the end he realised that there was only one important question and there was never going to be a better time than the present.

“Nancy, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

It was that simple.

* * *

 

Of course it wasn’t only that simple.

“I do have a job to go to in September. I suppose I really should give them a year. I would have to stick with the job until Christmas at any rate, because of giving a term’s notice. After all, one of those adoption and fostering societies may well find a family for David. If not Mother says she’s quite certain she can cope for a year.”

“There must be a lot of Jewish children looking for foster parents just now.” John could not be optimistic.

“Not many children that young. Probably none that young.” Nancy pointed out.  

“So, given that the day is yours to name, you’re thinking about next summer?” he asked.

She nodded. “How do you feel about that?”

“I _feel_ that it’s much too long to wait.” He whispered into her ear. “I _think_ it’s probably a good idea.”

About five minutes later, he suggested quietly. “Behaving ourselves might be a lot easier if we were actually sailing, you know. And it does seem to be getting late.”

Nancy looked around her at the day and the lake as though she hadn’t noticed.

“Jibbooms and bobstays – I hadn’t realised  – we’d better just sling everything in the basket and go. The wind will be against us and it always does drop at sunset when you don’t want it to.”


	26. The Goblin returns home

 

Roger had telephoned London as soon as they had anchored, leaving Susan and Jim to deal with the customs officers. By the time Roger returned to Goblin, the local doctor had already been summoned to certify the death, but seemed only too willing to leave the rest of it in the hands of the “man from the admiralty” who he was assured would arrive soon.

“It may comfort you to know,” the doctor said as he filled out some paperwork for the undertakers, “that the blow to the skull was probably the cause of death. Even if you had been able to reach him and stop the bleeding, he would have died. It’s not easy to say without the _post mortem_ examination, but I don’t think his liver would have given him much longer to live anyway.”

He peered over his reading glasses at Susan and added pointedly. “This blow to the skull would have been quick”.

The doctor examined, re-splinted and bandaged Susan’s right arm and recommended Roger to take her to the hospital for an X-ray as soon as he could – within the next two days certainly.  Roger’s nose he pronounced broken, but barring ice, said he could recommend very little for it and had seen worse injuries from rugger.

Susan had been sent to lie in her bunk. “I can give you something for the pain, which may make you a little drowsy.” said the doctor.

Susan knew she must have slept, because when she woke the undertakers had taken away the body. She heard a low murmur of voices from the cockpit.

“You did absolutely right.” came an unfamiliar voice, “If you had once let enough of them board that would have been the end of all of you and Miss Walker would have had worse problems than a broken arm. They couldn’t afford to leave witnesses and they could have disposed of you all with no extra risk of themselves. It takes a certain sort of courage to put priorities in the right order, Mr Brading and you appear to have it. Think of us if the world takes a turn for the worse. We could use you.”

“Roger? Jim?” she called out.

It was Jim who came through. Susan thought he looked considerably more cheerful.

“Some sort of Very Senior Officer is here. Are you well enough to speak to him?”

“Prop me up a little before you bring down him.”

Jim turned to get the pillow from the other bunk and made her as comfortable as he could.

“….good these Handy Billies, but they don’t stay that way all by themselves.”

The Very Senior Officer came down followed by Roger, who was a bit red about the ears in the way that usually indicated that he had received some sort of compliment. The Very Senior Officer was very reassuring but questioned Susan closely. She could dredge up a lot more fragments of conversation with Cavendish from her memory than she thought she could, and handed over John’s little notebook of observations.

Jim said despondently, “But isn’t it all for nothing? I am sure saw the last of those Soviet thugs take a piece of paper from Cavendish’s coat.”

Susan and Roger exchanged glances and laughed – in Susan’s case briefly.

“What is it?” asked Jim, rather testily.

“I’m sorry, Jim. I didn’t know you had spotted it happening.” said Roger.

“And I didn’t know it had been taken.” Susan added.

“And the identity of this hilarious piece of paper?” asked The Very Senior Officer.

“Three million cheers. You explain, Susan.” said Roger.

“The oilskin coat was originally John’s,” Susan explained, “But the last time he used it was the summer we met you, Jim. He’d grown out of it by the Christmas holidays. Mine still fitted me for ages after that, so this one got passed down to Roger.”

“Titty first, then me.” Roger corrected. “I outgrew it. Then it sort of drifted around the family as a spare.”

“But the letter?” Jim prompted.

“Was a message from Nancy, in semaphore.” Susan explained, “John must have put it in his pocket at some point and never taken it out. Nor did any of the rest of us.”

“What did it say? Or should I not ask?” the Very Senior Officer enquired.

“Three million cheers.” said Roger. “That’s all it said.”

“Semaphore as in?” The Very Senior Officer held out is arms.

Roger and Susan nodded.

“Stick men.” Susan explained. “Nancy and Peggy send letters in it quite frequently. Our sister Titty does too.”

The Very Senior Officer roared with laughter. “Well, I’d love to know how much time our Soviet friends waste on it.”

Susan managed to get her own most pressing question answered eventually.

“Mr. Walker and Miss Blackett? Yes, they’re back safe and sound. Look very tired of course, but what else could you expect? Brought something very interesting back with them. I’ve told Mr Walker not to go back to his ship until the expected time and I’m giving you the same sort of advice. They went to Miss Blackett’s home I believe. Where will you stay?”

Roger had already opened his mouth to say “At Beckfoot, of course,” when Jim said, “Here, that is if Susan is fit enough.”

 The Very Senior Officer gave him a quick glance and nodded. “That might be a good idea. Fair enough. Let us know if you change your mind, though. We may need to ask more questions. There may be some sort of inquest, but I expect we can make do with depositions.”

After that, he suggested that he and Roger take Susan for her X-ray. They swung her down in a bosun’s chair and she was taken to the hospital in Ipswich in the admiralty car. Susan’s arm was cracked, but the fractured had not been displaced. When he heard that she was living aboard a ship, the doctor who inspected her x-ray insist on her spending two nights in the hospital.

“It will do you good to experience things from the patients’ view point. And I’d rather you waited until the plaster was good and hard before you were scrambling about on yachts.” 

Once she was settled into a bed, Roger was allowed into the ward to speak to her.

“Have you got any of the money with you?” she asked him.

“A little bit. I’ve got my post office book with me though.”

 “Well, you’re going to have to buy food for yourself and Jim, but I need you to buy some night clothes for me for tonight. I’m sorry to ask you this, Roger. They did cut me out of my blouse, too. I’ll pay it back later. Better ask one of the nurses where would be best to go – somewhere not too expensive. And make sure it will wash.”

“What about sizes?” asked Roger.

“Have you got paper? I’ll write it down, if you hold it steady. It can be a little bit confusing.”

It wasn’t too bad, he found, asking one of the nurses for directions to a shop with reasonable prices.

“And a bed jacket might be a good idea.” The nurse added.

* * *

 

Roger was fairly sure that buying Susan’s pyjamas would involve a lot of being giggled at. There was bound to be a young woman as well as an older one behind the counter. That seemed to be the immutable rule in shops. And the younger one would be a giggler. He couldn’t remember when this had started. When he was a child there had been very few young people working in shops, and he certainly couldn’t remember all that giggling. Here was the shop, and it was still open. He went in. Best get it over with.

“My sister has broken her arm and is in hospital. One of the nurses suggested I might buy her some suitable pyjamas and underwear here. I’ve got the sizes written down here.” Roger handed over the slip of paper. “What can you recommend, please?”

“Short cap sleeves” said the woman behind the counter, who contrary to his expectations was neither young, nor giggling. “I only have one style that will suit in stock.”

He left the choice of underwear entirely to the woman as well; the price seemed reasonable enough.

“The nurse mentioned a bed jacket, but my sister didn’t ask for one. Are they expensive?”

The assistant showed him some, and they agreed that perhaps they were rather difficult to get a plaster-cast into.

“What I’d advise you to do is to get a cardigan rather generously-sized, and then she can wear it over her shoulders.” suggested the assistant.

Roger paid for his purchases and asked her to recommend a shop where he could buy the other clothes. One of her suggestions coincided with that of the staff nurse, so he went that there. He went first to the post-office and took out most of his savings. Better safe than sorry. He approached the second shop with the business-like approach that had worked so well in the first. Again, to his astonishment, there were no giggles, although there was one young assistant and one older one.

He found when he left the shop that he would only just have time to drop the parcel off at the hospital and still catch the last bus.

Roger and Jim ate hotted up tinned steak and kidney pudding that night. Roger washed up. Jim dried. The ship seemed strangely silent.

“Do you think it was worth it?” said Jim abruptly.

“You heard what he said about something very interesting. He’s probably one of these people like John who says not bad when he means jolly good. He has that sort of manner. So it must be really significant if he said it was interesting.” Roger said.

“What do you think your parents will say when they hear about it?” Jim, usually a hearty trencherman was pushing his share of the steak and kidney pudding about the plate.

“It was Dad’s idea anyway. I don’t mean the whole thing with all the surveys – but getting us involved. Who else would have known about you? The _Goblin_?”

“What is your mother going to say about Susan’s arm?”

“It’s not the sort of thing she’ll make a fuss about. Bridget broke a collar-bone falling of a friend’s pony and Titty broke a finger in lacrosse and she didn’t make a fuss about those. We might be better not telling her too much about the fight. Look here, Susan’s older than you were when you first met us. She’s grown up. She’ll be twenty-one next birthday. She’s not your responsibility.”

“Except as skipper.”

“Yes, but none of what happened is any fault of yours or _Goblin’s._ It’s not worth wasting that steak and kidney over it. I’ll write to Dad tonight and post it in the morning and he’ll write to her in Australia. I haven’t got the address. She’ll know everything is OK before she has anything to worry about. That’s the main thing with Mother.”

Jim ate the rest of his meal. Roger opened a tin of rice pudding, put half in a bowl for Jim and ate his half out of the tin. The matter was dropped. After supper, Roger took a piece of paper.

“We’ll need to buy food for however long we’ll be here.” he said. “It’ll be great to buy eggs without having to do a chicken impression first.”

“Really?” said Jim and smiled for the first time in many days.

“I’m afraid so. In Copenhagen. Fortunately only Dick was with me, and he promised not to tell. How did you manage?”

“Nancy and Susan did most of the shopping. I think a lot of it was point and smile. We’ve still got quite a lot of tinned stuff left. ”

“We must have fresh stuff as well,” said Roger, “and plenty of milk and fruit for Susan. I’ll make a list for the next few days and buy the stuff when we go and see her tomorrow.” 

“Will they let me see her too?” said Jim, with no fond memories of hospitals.

“Of course,” said Roger, “We can leave Goblin by herself here can’t we? You’ve done it before. There is no point getting there before two o’clock though; they told me they are quite strict about visiting times. In the morning we should try to do something about laundry.” Roger was heartily glad that the undertaker had removed the sheets from Cavendish’s bunk, and the Very Senior Officer had taken all Cavendish’s other belongings, but was he was well aware that he had transferred from Sea Bear with very little in the way of clean clothes. John and Nancy had left most of their clothes bundled up in John’s bag, and had taken only Nancy’s suitcase. This was likely to irritate Susan unbearably after a day back aboard the Goblin.  She always did fret about little things after something big had happened.

“I’ve only really done short voyages before, a fortnight at the most, so that’s something I’ve not organised before.”

 “Let’s ask Miss Powell what she recommends in the morning.” said Roger. “If we take it to a proper laundry, there must be a proper list. Have you organised anything about milk?”

“Yes, we can go across for it any time after eight o’clock. I did ask whether she had room for Susan, but she’s fully booked until Sunday night. ”

“That’s fine, they won’t let Susan out until Sunday anyway, I don’t think.”


	27. Being Susan's brother

Next morning, Miss Powell said she was willing to do most of the washing that was needed, although she declined to have anything to do with woollens and Roger decided not to even show her a shirt of Nancy’s which was badly torn and was flecked with blood. He evidently hadn’t heard the fully story of their Baltic adventure. Surely not even Nancy could do that much damage to clothes by accident. It looked as if she had been rummaging around in a dustbin as well.

  After some thought, Roger parcelled up John and Nancy’s socks and the pullovers and posted them to Beckfoot with a brief and apologetic letter. Just as well to let John and Nancy know they were back.  Then he wrote a rather longer letter to his father.

They had an early lunch of corned beef sandwiches and took the bus to Ipswich. They planned to do most of the food shopping after the visit, but Jim insisted on buying Susan quite a large bunch of pink roses. Roger privately thought this somewhat impractical, as they would have to carry them back to Pin Mill tomorrow. He bought Susan a small punnet of strawberries and was astonished at how readily on of the younger nurses agreed to wash them and put them in a bowl next to Susan’s bed, “Mr. Walker” ing him several times as she did so.

Roger was pleased to see how much better Susan appeared, and said so when it was his turn to sit next to her. The one visitor per bed rule was strictly enforced. Susan professed herself delighted with his purchases.

“You seem to have fluttered a few hearts in the first year student nurses.” She went on to observe, “I was asked twice this morning if my brother was coming to see me.”

“Well, I certainly wasn’t trying to make an impression.” He replied a trifle indignantly.

“That is probably half of the secret.” She replied lightly and moved the talk onto other matters.

* * *

 

Roger and Jim treated themselves to fish and chips when they finished shopping in Ipswich and ate them on a park bench.

“My aunt would have a fit if she knew I was doing this.” Jim confessed.

“Mother would understand.” Roger replied.

They had got to the finger-licking stage, when Jim spoke in a voice that was so casual that the tension in it was obvious even to Roger, who never counted himself as sensitive.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“As Susan’s brother.”

“Yes”

“Because your parents aren’t here”

“Umhum”

“Um, do you think they are likely to object if I, err, asked Susan, err, to marry me?”

Roger thought carefully about how he replied. “I definitely think you should ask her yourself, but not just yet. Don’t tell her you asked me anything about it.”

All the same, he sent posted another short letter to Beckfoot on the way to fetch Susan from the hospital, and took care to consult the railway time table in Miss Powell’s parlour when he went to collect and pay for the laundry. He might have guessed wrong, but it would be better to be prepared.

* * *

 

Four days later, Roger brought Susan (and the clean clothes) across to _Goblin_ immediately after breakfast. Settled into the cockpit, she immediately took a deep breath of air.

“This is better.” was all she said. With Roger opening cupboards below and Jim sitting next to Susan doing the writing, a list of stores and a shopping list was made. Roger was duly dispatched with the list and a couple of string bags.

 When Roger returned, Jim was sitting in the bows smoking his pipe. One glance at Jim’s face told Roger what he needed to know. Roger kept his own face as impassive as possible as he tossed the painter up to Jim.

“I got nearly everything.” he said, gesturing with a used envelope he had been keeping in his pocket for days. “We might have to go up to Beckfoot though. I just want to show this to Susan and see what she thinks. It’s more sort of a family thing. I hope you don’t mind.”

Roger ducked down into the cabin. His sister sat on her bunk with her head down, sobbing very quietly.

“Susie,” he said, “I think we better go to Beckfoot. Can you look at this letter and tell me if we ought to go?”

She reached her good hand out for the letter. She looked at the empty envelope, frowned, and looked up at Roger, puzzled. He shrugged and jerked his head towards the bows.

“If you think we ought to go today, we can catch a lunchtime train, if we go now.” He spoke clearly, looking directly in Susan eyes. A rather wobbly smile came to her face and she flung her good arm around his neck. A lot of the tears on her face got transferred to his shoulder. He felt her take a deep breath and she sat up.

“I’m sorry, Roger, but I think you’re right. The only decent thing is for us to go to Beckfoot at soon as possible.” Susan said. “Shall I start packing our things?”

“I’m sorry,” Roger said, sticking his head above the combing of the cockpit, “but we both really think we should go as soon as possible. Susan’s packing now. I’d better help her.”

“Shall I may some sandwiches for you?” asked Jim. He sounded slightly relieved. Roger thought he was not really fooled, but the excuse was good enough to save face, and that was really all that counted.

 “That would be great, thank you.” he replied. His voice sounded false in his own ears.

* * *

 

“How did you know that I needed to get away?” asked Susan a few hours later when they had a compartment to themselves after their first change of trains.

“Jim asked me whether mother and father would mind if he asked you to marry him.”

Susan frowned.

“I hadn’t realised that.” she said. “How did you know I would say no? He’s kind and good looking and respectful and has a good profession and he’s polite and intelligent and loves sailing and even I don’t know why I don’t love him enough to say at least “maybe”. I like him, and I always used to want to impress him and I’m not a romantic like Dorothea but…..”

The silence grew. Roger looked out of the window thought about how you did recognise love, at least from the outside – how you told it from friendship.

“I didn’t know for sure, but I thought you might feel like that.” he said, “You know when Mother sees Father’s handwriting on an envelope? Or how he looks when she comes into a room? Or the look on her face when he comes home? As if there’s an extra light somewhere? That look wasn’t there. Not on your face; I don’t know about his.”

“Maybe that’s just mother and father though?”

Roger shook his head. “You see it in other people. Mr. and Mrs. Dixon -  her face lights up when she even mentions him. Other people, the Callum’s parents, John and Nancy even.” He voice trailed off thoughtfully. He looked at Susan, who was looking at him carefully, and with some measure of respect.

“John and Nancy?” she said, “You really think so?”

“Well, now I come to think about it, yes.” he replied a touch defiantly.

“Just recently, or do you think it’s been for ages?” she asked curiously.

“More than just this summer, but I don’t really know how long for. I’ve only just thought about it. Maybe it started before I was old enough to notice.”

“I wondered the summer we went to the Hebrides.” Susan admitted. “Nancy’s plans seemed to involve her and John going off together. But then I thought, with Peggy and I being such good friends, and the rest of you being so much younger, maybe they just felt left out and stuck together. And then, this summer….We shouldn’t really be talking about it though.”

“I don’t see who has a better right to talk about them.” he retorted.

 Twenty miles later he added, “All the same, I’d love to know what Titty’s noticed.”

“We can’t go gossiping about this with her.” Susan replied hastily.

Roger grinned but remained silent. Susan was herself again.

 


	28. Conversations in bedrooms

She couldn’t move. She had to reach him because there was something she had to do. She got there and looked down and it wasn’t Cavendish after all, but Jim who opened dead eyes and looked up at her and said “this is all your fault, you and your brother did this”.  She couldn’t move so she closed her eyes and when she opened them again it was Nancy lying there covered in dreadful bruises. “I can’t move.” said Susan and it was as if the sound of her own voice broke a spell, because now she could hear Nancy’s voice somewhere at once far off and close by.

“It’s just a nightmare. It’s alright. I’m here. I’ll look after you.”

Something was moved away from her feet, her legs. Someone was supporting her, helping her to sit up.

“You’re quite safe. You’re in Peggy’s bed, and you got your feet tangled in the sheets, and your arm hurts so it gave you nightmares. Come on Susan, look around you and see where you are. You’re quite safe now.”

Susan looked towards the window and saw the soft mistiness of a wet afternoon in the Lake District. She could see the woods on the other side of the Amazon River but not the taller hills further north. The clouds were low. The window was open just a crack and she could hear the gentle sound of rain on trees in full leaf. Still supporting her, Nancy placed a glass of water in her good hand and waited while she drank some of it.

“Why don’t you sit on my bed for a bit and I’ll remake this one?” Nancy asked. “I’ll have to sort it out from scratch.”

“I’m sorry to be a nuisance.” said Susan watching Nancy strip the bed and drape the covers over the bedroom chair. “Am I like this at night? Am I disturbing you?”

“You’re not a nuisance and no, for the one night you’ve been here, you haven’t disturbed me and I don’t _think_ you’ve had any nightmares. Did you get the safety line tangled around your feet on _Goblin_?”

“No, but I was afraid I might.”

“I’m sure as your arm gets better everything else will too.” Nancy spoke with such assurance that Susan did not query her statement. She sat and watched Nancy make the bed again.

“If there’s anything I should be doing better, tell me won’t you?” asked Nancy. “It’s slightly…. disconcerting… to know you’re being watched by someone who does the thing professionally.”

“What you’re doing is fine.” said Susan, “and you’ve got the corners right. We’re taught to put a little pleat in the foot end so there is room for the patient’s feet to stick up a bit when they’re lying on their backs.”

“Like this?”

“Yes.” Susan continued to watch Nancy. For some reason, Nancy appeared to be allowing Susan into a space in her life which, up until now, had been reserved for Peggy alone.  Susan was not sure if the broken arm, the nightmare or Nancy’s engagement to John was responsible for this. Perhaps it was all these things together. Whatever it was, Nancy might just be willing to answer a question which Susan urgently wanted to ask. After Nancy had helped her back into Peggy’s bed, Susan asked her question.

“Nancy, when John asked you to marry him, what made you say yes?”

Nancy, sitting cross-legged on her own bed, happy once again to be wearing “comfortables”, threw back her head and laughed aloud.

“I’m sorry, Susan, I know that was a serious question but, gimminy, why ask that one when you could ask why John would ask me in the first place?” There was a silence as they both thought about what Nancy just said.

“That’s part of the answer right there.” Nancy continued more soberly. “Each of us thinks we are the lucky one. There are lots of things that are part of the answer. How long we’ve known each other, we know we can share decisions, we trust each other, we’ve been through some bad things together as well as lots of good things, we like the same things, we think the same things are important, we like each other’s families, we are best friends, we don’t want _just_ to be best friends.” Nancy blushed a little, tracing the pattern on the patchwork quilt with one finger and did not look up.

“That’s a lot to think about.”

“Oh, I didn’t think about any of it, not when he asked me.” Nancy smiled, but still did not look up. “I knew the answer was yes. I know I love John. I didn’t have to think about it.” She scrambled to her feet, eyes briefly catching Susan’s. _Roger was right_. Susan thought. _You can see it in the eyes. I wonder if they can see if in themselves, or each other._

Nancy moved around the room, tidying things, sometimes unnecessarily.

“You don’t have to answer now,” Nancy said carefully, “and you can always change your mind. But I did wonder. In the normal course of events, we would ask Mother to invite Jim Brading to the wedding. But if it would make you happier if Mother didn’t invite him, for whatever reason, she doesn’t have to. You don’t have to tell me anything about why.”

“Have you discussed this with John?”

“Not exactly,” said Nancy, “but we did agree that it wasn’t fair to you to discuss it.”

Despite herself, Susan giggled a bit at this.

“What’s so funny?”

“You two, you can’t really help yourselves from telling each other everything.”

“We probably could, but it would take a special effort.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course. You don’t have to make your mind up until next Easter.”

* * *

 

“John.”

John held up his hand then put his finger to his lips. He got out of bed and came to the door of the spare room.

“Go into the other room if we’re going to talk. The idea of having the baby in the room is so he doesn’t have time wake the whole house when he does start to cry, not to wake him unnecessarily.”

They were both sitting on Captain Flint’s bed, currently occupied by Roger.

“Doesn’t David mind being in different rooms different nights?” Roger asked.

“He’s not said anything yet.”

“That was a terrible joke.”

“At least you admit it was a joke.”

“Yes, but I didn’t laugh.”

“Oh get into bed.”

“Get off it then, I may be shorter than you but I’m not that short.”

John obligingly sat on the bedroom chair, conveniently free since Roger’s clothes were “hung up on the floor” as usual.

“You probably still haven’t finished growing.” he told his younger brother.

“I’m not bothered if I have. I’d like to be a convenient size to fit in a cockpit.”

“You’ve made up your mind, then?” John asked.

“I still haven’t. I thought I had, but then when I went to visit Dick at Cambridge I thought – well I could enjoy something like that for three years, too. Not that he seems to notice half of what goes on outside the lab. or the library.”

“He notices more than you think. Always has done.”

“He didn’t notice Dot trying to match-make him and Titty.”

John laughed. “Dot is..” He shook his head. “Did Titty notice? She’d get awfully upset and embarrassed if she did.”

Roger grinned. “Not a thing.”

“Go on.” John prompted. “There’s obviously been more going on than just that. Can I ask why you came back so quickly from Pin Mill after all?”

“I thought Susan would be less unhappy, if we did.  That’s all the answer you’re going to get, John. Susan’s too decent to talk about it and I only worked it out because.. well it was obvious if you were there.” Roger had grown up a great deal in the couple of months since he had last seen him, John thought, but there was still something he wanted to tell John without the others hearing. John suddenly remembered the seven-year old who would just, very occasionally, reach out a hand for reassurance in the dark and didn’t like you to mention it. “Go on,” said John, “What else happened? You seem to have had an interesting time.”

“Well, it turns out that Peggy can tell who is signalling in Morse, just by the way they signal. She could tell it was Susan with the torch, not Nancy and got awfully worried because she thought something bad had happened to Nancy, although she tried not to show it. Peggy stuck to her guns and made Mac turn back to meet us.” Roger paused and said in a rather different tone. “Just as well she did. It could have gone a different way – it would have gone a different way with one less of us on _Goblin –_ or if one more of them had managed to board.” And he told John about the fight on the _Goblin._

“The thing is, that we just left them in the water. If they couldn’t swim, or they didn’t get picked up by the fishing boat, I’ve killed two people.” Roger finished off.

“That’s really unlikely. And it isn’t as if you chose to start the fight. You couldn’t have had less choice, really,” said John watching Roger’s face carefully, “and it wasn’t as if it was just you. Think of it as a choice between leaving them to take their chances and letting them kill Susan.”

“That’s what it seemed like at the time.” said Roger. “But afterwards, I started thinking. You’ve thought about it quite a lot, haven’t you?”

“I’ve had to. Most of the time a Navy really works just by being there, I think, but the best-armed ship in the world is no deterrent unless people know you would be prepared to fire those guns. And I’ve talked to Father about it, which helped. Having the person you’re fighting to protect right next to you makes the decision easier.”

  “You had a more interesting time than you’re letting on,” said Roger.

“We were followed, in Tallinn and ended up in a fight. Just Nancy and me. If it’s any help to you, we had to run and leave someone we might just have possibly killed, too. More probably he was just knocked out.”

“Did you hide in a dustbin?”

“Behind one. How did you know?”

“Nancy’s shirt. I just dumped it in a dustbin we passed in Ipswich.”

“Thanks for that.” said John and then continued, “Roger. You will be my best man, won’t you?”

“Of course. What do I have to do?”

“We are the grown-ups now. Except Bridget maybe.” said John. Roger thought he sounded a trifle grim as he said it. “I’d better get some sleep before I have to get up again.”

****

“Not lose the ring, do some kind of speech, toast someone – I’m not sure who toasts who but there’s bound to be some kind of book for looking it up. Oh yes, and dance with Peggy. I’m not sure if there’s anything else. I’ve never been one.”

“Seems odd to do something without you having done it first. Far too grown up to be real.”


	29. Post

** Post **

 John opened the door to the postman, who nodded pleasantly to him and asked after the “poor little refugee laddie.” This was an extremely encouraging indication that Mrs Blackett’s plans were bearing fruit. Seeing his father’s handwriting on an envelope, John almost opened it before he noticed it was not addressed to him. There were more letters from his father; in fact everyone apart from Cook had one, although the one addressed to Nancy was the thickest. There was a letter in a type-written envelope for Nancy and a hand-written one for Cook.

John went through the kitchen to give Cook her letter and carried on into the garden where Susan was sitting on a steamer chair with Mrs Blackett in a deck chair beside her. The day was sunny, but the grass was still damp under foot.  Nancy had offered to let Roger sail the Amazon for the morning. He had needed no second asking. The pram and a second deck chair were empty. Mrs Blackett caught his glance at the empty chair as he handed the letters over.

“She’s just changing the baby – you may as well wait for her to come down - she must be nearly finished.” Mrs Blackett said. John went up to the bathroom with the remaining letters, leaving Roger’s letter on the hall table as he passed. Nancy had just redressed David as John came in and kissed her before handing her letters.

“Shall I take him down to the pram?” John asked.

“Yes, I’ll just tidy up here before I come down.”

John was sitting in Nancy’s deck chair when she reached the lawn, but sprang to his feet to give it back to her immediately. Nancy pushed him gently back down.

“It was yours first.” He said gallantly.

“No, you sit in it”

“I can’t sit down while you stand.”

“We’ll both sit in it then.” Nancy pushed John back in the chair.

“Careful, that deck chair won’t take two.” said Mrs Blackett.  

“It always used to.” Nancy replied. There was an ominous creak and both Nancy and John sprang to their feet.

“When you and Peggy were children, yes.” said her mother, “It doesn’t take two adults and the poor thing is a good deal older than you are Nancy. John, you have my chair. Then if my silly daughter has injured the chair it can drop her on the floor. I’m going in to tell Cook your father is going to visit.”

They settled down to read their letters.

“Mother is coming home. Her father has died. She’s coming by sea this time though.” said Susan.

“Father told me that, too.” said John. “He’s coming tomorrow, probably but he doesn’t know which train. He’ll ring from the station when he gets there.”

Nancy was silent about the contents of her letter. She read intently, cheeks pink and with an odd mixture of solemnity and pleasure on her face. When she had finished, she read it through again and then folded it carefully, put it back in the envelope and put it in her shirt pocket. She opened the other letter. This too she read twice, but her expression was totally different. Susan could not recall ever seeing Nancy cry, but it looked suspiciously as if she was fighting off tears. Nancy leapt to her feet and thrust the letter in John hands.

“Here, read this. Anyone can read this who wants to, I’d rather that than keep explaining it.”

 Nancy ran off up the lawn. John read the letter through, once handed it to Susan and followed Nancy. He passed Mrs Blackett coming towards the little cluster of deck chairs and said “Susan’s got the letter. Nancy said anyone could read it.” as he passed her.

Cook was waiting for him as he arrived at the back door.

“It won’t do to catch up with her too soon. Not that she’s run off like this since she was a little lass, but she always goes the same way when she’s in a mood like this, so it won’t make any difference. You don’t have to go after her at all, but I suppose you’ll pay me no mind when I tell you that.”

 He set off walking briskly despite Cook’s instructions. He might have the longer legs, but Nancy was, he reluctantly admitted to himself, as good on mountains.

As it was, he had barely turned off the road and started up the path before he met Nancy hurrying down the opposite direction.

“I’m sorry,” she said “I had no business just going of like that.”

He had seen her look fierce, but he had never seen quite that mixture of flintiness and fire in her eyes before.

“We don’t have to go back just yet.” he suggested. “I can go away again if you want me to.”

She shook her head slightly, turned on her heel and followed the path uphill again. John followed, letting her get a little ahead. They passed a few strangers coming down the path, and exchanged “Good mornings” with them, but other than that nothing was said for at least twenty minutes. Nancy set a brisk pace and he was quite glad when she waited for him at a viewpoint a little of the path. He hugged her. Was it the right thing to do? She didn’t push him away, but she didn’t hug him back either.

“I don’t think I deserve to be hugged for losing my temper.” she said, rather muffled again his shoulder.

“Does that mean I don’t get hugged either?” he asked.

She wrapped her arms round him.

“When I was little, I used to come up here to be angry by myself where Mother and Peggy couldn’t see in case it upset them. This was as far as I was allowed to come by myself, so I always stopped here. I haven’t done it for ages, not since I was eleven.”

There was another long silence, more companionable this time.

“I’ll have to write back.” she said.

“Telling them they’ve made a mistake and they will have to let you have the job?”

“Telling them they’ve made a mistake. I can’t make them give me the job back. It would be different if I had actually started working for them. You saw the letter; would I want to work for them anyway after that?”

“It was very formal and polite but it was still a stinker”

“I’ve written some stinkers myself. At least mine were honest stinkers and didn’t pretend to be anything else.”

John grinned. He had seen some of them.

“Anyway, you saw how it was phrased. The mere fact of the rumour existing is the problem to them. I suppose they could say they can’t help it; if parents get upset and take their daughters away, they have no school. They could still have asked me if it was true first, though. I’ll have to see if I can write the polite sort of stinker as well.” Nancy grinned rather savagely.

“I don’t see how the rumour got as far as Knaresborough.” said John tentatively, as they started back down the hill. “Except that it isn’t that far to Harrogate.”

“It won’t be the Great-Aunt. She’s rather ashamed of me earning my own living and she thinks any game more vigorous than croquet is unladylike, but a rumour like this would damage her more than anyone.” Nancy argued. “After all, her friends in Harrogate are mostly just like her. A rumour like this is just about the worst thing she can imagine happening to her.”

“I bet she has a fair few enemies as well as friends in Harrogate.” John said.

“She’s probably got enemies everywhere she’s been for more than five minutes. Once the rumour got to Harrogate, I can see how it would spread.”

“Has she got any friends around here who might write to her?”

“Not really, not anymore and Mother has been rather putting off writing to her about our engagement. So have I to be honest. Mother’s current excuse is that she needs to be sure that there has been time for the letters to your mother to reach Australia, before she writes to anyone else.”

“They might miss Mother entirely, if she’s on her way back.” John said.

“She’ll probably be feeling pretty sad and lonely coming back by sea by herself.” The path was wider here and Nancy held his hand.

“She’s probably missing Father more than usual, although she’s certain to make some new friends on the voyage. The only person Mother’s ever not made friends with, that I can remember, is your great aunt.”


	30. Camping

Three faces looked hopefully up at Mac.

He looked at the weather; he looked at the sea; he looked at the sand dunes; he looked back at the three faces. He sighed.

“Very well. One night only. Don’t blame me if you’re cold and uncomfortable. Don’t blame me if you get no sleep. Don’t you dare bring sand back into the bunks. And can only do it if Peggy will agree to go with you. I don’t see why she should.”

Bridget was on the point of arguing the last point when Elspeth prodded her firmly in the back. Bridget closed her mouth again. Mac caught her eye.

“This isn’t the Lake District. Peggy stays with you or you don’t camp at all. You had better go and ask her yourselves.”

He turned away and went forward, while they rushed down to the cabin. Bridget at least was fairly confident that Peggy would not let them down.

“We’ve slept outside before.” Peggy said. “We haven’t got any tents, but this might make it more camp-like.” And she burrowed in her kit to produce a small skull and cross-bones. Peggy caught Bridget’s surprised look.

“It’s not Amazon’s flag, it’s just a spare. We can fix it to a surveying pole.”

Mac would not let them have a camp-fire for cooking either.

“You’re getting your own way on this,” he told the ship’s children, “I don’t want any more fuss than needs be. The main thing it to find out if that lagoon is extensive enough to be any real use. And of course, to find out if it does connect with the sea. It’s the only one that isn’t on the maps and charts”

“Just because he is Captain Flint’s friend doesn’t mean he is going to see things the same way.” Titty said privately Bridget. “And he is skipper.  What’s Colin up to?”

“We thought we should have a first aid kit.”

Titty found herself sighing as she went to convince Colin that a few sticking plasters, some of the iodine in a small bottle and maybe just one bandage would be quite enough.

“Just because Susan bought all these medicines doesn’t mean she ever expected us to us them.” Titty explained. “She just didn’t want the sort of mistakes that might occur if you have to buy things in a foreign language.”

With one last prod at the fascinating box, Colin went to see the folding boat lowered over the side. All the older ones had a practice with it, and Titty and Dick were picked for the next day’s survey mission. Peggy tended to put too much power into each stroke and Dorothea was a lot stronger with one oar than another.

 “It’s just as well really.” said Peggy a little regretfully. “At least you will both have had some rest. I’m not likely to get much.”

“They won’t be getting that much either.” said Mac. “We’ll be sending them across at sunrise. Just as well to carry the folder over the sandbar this evening and hide it under the vegetation. Dorothea can pick up the campers when she drops Titty and Dick off next morning.”

The faces of the ships’ children dropped. It looked as though they would get only a few hours of camping. 

With the exception of Mac, the entire ship’s company rowed across to the sand dunes after supper. Dick and Titty were struggling somewhat with the folding boat. It was impossible to hurry with it, and the slope of the beach was such that they had quite a distance to row.  With two of them in it, the gunwhales were much nearer the water than either of them liked, slight though the sea was. _Sea-bear’_ s dinghy, rowed by Dorothea and Peggy had reached the sand beach long before they did and Titty could see Peggy showing Colin and Elspeth how to fix the flag to a ranging pole.

“Shall we collapse the boat and hide her folded?” Titty asked.

“If we want to get going quickly, we should leave her unfolded. Fixing the thwarts in isn’t that easy. It would be safer to leave the oars with the others. They’ll be easy enough to carry.”

Between them, the four older ones carried the folding boat up the sand dune, across it and down the other side.

“At least on sand we can lower it for a rest.” said Peggy. “It’s a lot easier than lugging it up to that loch.”

“When we get to the slope down, will you slide it into the lagoon?” asked Colin.

“Better not,” panted Dorothea as they crested the ridge. “Anything could be under the sand. It wouldn’t take much to hole the canvas.”

“Do you want us to help?” Elspeth asked.

“Better not, but thanks anyway.” said Titty. “It’s mostly just because the sand is so soft.”

“A lot of the energy goes into moving the sand as we walk, not so much into lifting the boat.” Dick elaborated.

They slip-slid down the other side of the sand-dune and were glad to put the folding boat down. The vegetation came much closer to the shore on this side of the sand bar and was becoming more varied. They couldn’t actually get the boat completely under the sub-shrubs and clumps of thick coarse grass, but as Peggy pointed out, it was nearly sunset now, and they would be launching her soon after sunrise. There really wasn’t much time for anyone _to_ find the folding boat.

“Unless you over-sleep of course.” she added.

“Dad won’t let them do that.” said Elspeth. “When he makes a plan, people had better stick to it.”

“Good,” said Peggy.

“I thought we agreed to leave the oars at your camp.” said Titty.

“You never said.” said Elspeth

“You really didn’t, Titty.” Dorothea added.

“Provided we hide them separately it doesn’t matter, I expect.” said Titty.

Elspeth and Colin handed over the oars they had been carrying, one each, to Dick who hid them under a nearby gorse bush.

Peggy allowed only a short time for Elspeth and Colin to sprinkle some of last year’s leaves from the tiny birch trees over the folding boat before she urged them back to the “camp.”

“There’s other people camping, besides us. Two lots.” Bridget had been using Dick’s new binoculars. “That lot, and she pointed to the far side of the lagoon and a little to her right, seem to have quite a lot of tents. They’ve got a flag pole with a swastika flag and quite a big fire. But there is another group,” she pointed further to her left, “who just have a small fire like the sort we use for cooking. I can’t see any boats though.”

Titty looked at Peggy somewhat doubtfully.

“They’re both on the other side of the lagoon – if it is a lagoon, not just a funny-shaped bay.” said Peggy, “and we’ll be going to bed at soon as you’ve gone back to _Sea-bear.”_

“You’ve got your whistle?”

“Of course. And we’re only yards from the sea. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

“All the same,” said Titty, “those camps really aren’t that far away.”

“The big one will be Hitler Youth.” said Dick, then adding quickly, “Don’t worry, Titty, they’ll probably all be lined up having indoctrination lectures or singing propaganda songs.”

“And isn’t it most likely the other group is just some friends? Just like us really. Just like we were.” Dot added. 

“It might be six or seven hundred yards away as the crow flies, but they’d have to walk a lot further to actually get to each other.” Dick added. “I really think they’ll be fine.”

* * *

 

“Come on, sleepy heads. The others will be here before we’re ready.” Peggy grinned then bent down and shook Colin’s feet and through the blanket, and poked Bridget in the back. Only Elspeth was already awake and watching the sunrise, blanket wrapped around her. She looked up at Peggy and grinned.

“We don’t need to get ready,” she observed. “It’s more a case of _take up thy bed and walk_. Even our tooth brushes are on _Sea-bear.”_

“Someday we’ll teach you to camp properly.” said Peggy, “but for today, taking up your bed is all we have time for. There’s a gulp or two of tea in the thermos each, but the others have nearly landed.” Elspeth looked towards the beach and saw that it was indeed the case. Peggy was holding out the thermos and its cup to Elspeth.

“Those things are awfully wee inside.” said Elspeth, “Are you sure there’s enough for everyone? Have you had yours?”

“Yes,” said Peggy, “Small gulps mind. But if Colin and Bridget don’t stir their stumps in a minute, I’ll shiver their timbers for them.”

Elspeth took her two gulps of tea and carefully fastened the flask again.

“Peggy?”

“Yes?”

“It was awfully decent of you to come with us.  Thank you. I know it probably wasn’t much fun for you and I’m sorry we talked so much.”

Peggy grinned. “It won’t be the first night I’ve gone without sleep and it won’t be the last. Better bundle up those blankets and take them down to the boat. Dot’s nearly here.”

Bridget stuck her nose out from her sleeping bag, looked around and crawled out of her bag.

“Colin, get up!” she said.

“He’s only pretending.” said his sister shrewdly.

“What will you do if he doesn’t get up?” asked Bridget, with interest.

“This,” said Peggy and began to roll the sleeping Colin down the sand dune towards the beach. Colin scrunched up his face, kept his eyes and mouth shut and tried not to giggle too obviously. Like his sister he had blankets rather than a sleeping bag, and once he was unrolled, Peggy tickled his feet through his socks until he stood up and put his shoes on.

Titty and Dick joined them. Dick was carrying both knapsack and his binoculars.

“A nice peaceful night?” Titty asked as Bridget commandeered Dick’s binoculars.

Peggy grimaced, and pretended to clip her around the ear. “Get on your way.”

“We’ll be back by sunset at the latest.” replied Titty. “Mac says we have to start for home tomorrow morning whatever we find or don’t find.”

“There’s two people coming along the beach. They look official.” announced Bridget.

“They all do.” said Dick gloomily, retrieving his binoculars.

“You two slip away and get going. Go on; snake along until you’re off the ridge. Explanations always do go wrong; get away before you have to get involved in any.” said Peggy, “I’ll leave the pole so that you can beach the folder in the right place coming back. She’s nuisance to row and a worse one to carry. Ships’ children, mill about a little so no-one can be sure how many of us there are. No- _don’t_ look in their direction, Colin.  There are four of us and Dot in the dinghy and your father on the _Sea-bear,_ that’s all.”

“If they get the folding boat out those men are sure to see them.” said Bridget who had bent down and was fiddling about as if tying her shoe lace.

“Are they hidden?” asked Peggy.

“Pretty much. You can see the odd glint off Dick’s glasses.” Bridget reported.

“Those men are running.” said Elspeth.

“If we get to the boat quickly enough, we might get away without any explanations.” said Peggy. “Leave the flag.”

“Can I understand German this time?” asked Elspeth, stumbling slightly over her blanket. The two men were shouting at them by this time.

“Maybe a little bit. Dot can’t. Never mind about shoes, just get in.” Peggy replied. “Do hurry.”

They very nearly managed it.

Just as Peggy was giving the dinghy a shove off, she was grabbed from behind by both arms. She tried to wrench them free; she got nowhere, so she tried a quick pace backwards. That didn’t work either. She was being harangued in German. They turned her round. She was marched up the beach. She dragged her feet, trying to slow them down. It had little effect. If she fell over deliberately they would probably just kick her. She would be at a disadvantage anyway, on the ground. There was no way she could get away by force or out-run them if she did. Both men were taller and stronger than she was. Peggy decided she would have to keep her temper (or at least appear to) and watch for her chance. She hoped Dot had had the sense to get the ship’s children to _Sea bear._

They reached the ranging pole with the skull and cross bones on top. Now, one of them held both her arms. She briefly considered kicking out blindly behind her, but that would unbalance her and she might miss entirely. His fellow tore down the flag, fumbled with a box of matches and set fire to the flag. Was it intended to upset her? Apparently so. Peggy kept her face impassive. He dropped the burning flag on the sand. A little too late, Peggy thought. He was trying to look as though he hadn’t singed his fingertips. The one with the matches reached out, snatched her red knitted cap from her head and set fire to it too. At least he tried to. The wool did not burn so well and he flung the cap away. Peggy began to realise that they were no older than she was and not entirely sure of themselves. All the time, one or the other of them kept up a tirade in German. Peggy thought she understood the occasional word here and there. They didn’t seem to be asking her questions, so she had said nothing. Now they seemed less angry. The unceasing flow of German was beginning to falter, so she decided to try explanations.

“We didn’t mean any harm – it was just three children camping and we’ll be gone by tonight.”

It was a mistake. The blow wasn’t even a punch; it was a smack across the cheek. It was still hard enough to rock her back on her heels slightly. She fought to appear cool and unconcerned, neither cowed nor angry. To smile would be a mistake. She didn’t think she could smile anyway. She glanced at the armband on the lower sleeve of one of her captors. It was a bluish black with embroidery in yellow. _HJ Steifendienst._ Peggy had no idea what it meant, but looked up again as if it had told her all she needed to know. The one holding her said something. The other one snatched the ranging pole out of the ground and flung it down. They marched her down the beach again.

The dinghy was still afloat. Dot had not gone back to the _Sea- bear._ Something red fluttered at the stern of _Sea-bear_. Mac was making a statement.

 The two Germans after a brief exchange between themselves said something to Dorothea.

“They are asking where our papers are.” Elspeth explained to Dot.

“Tell them they are on Sea-bear, that ship.” said Dot.

“Sie sind auf dem Schiff.” said Elspeth carefully and then listened to the reply.

“They want to come with us and look at the papers.” said Elspeth.

Dot met Peggy’s eyes. She thought Peggy gave very slight nod. After all, Mac was on the ship. One of the Germans got in the dinghy. Peggy made as if to follow and was jerked backward.

“Isn’t Peggy coming?” asked Colin.

Peggy forced a wry smile. “Apparently not this time.”

Once the dinghy was well away from the shore, Peggy was released.

“Setzen” the gesture made the meaning clear. Peggy sat down on the sand. She supposed she should still feel frightened. She did a bit, but mostly she felt thirsty.

* * *

 

Mac, it appeared, did speak a little German – this time. He appeared to Bridget’s eyes quite unperturbed by the situation and offered the German “English tea”, sending Bridget and Colin to the galley to make it. He produced their passport and various papers relating to the _Sea bear._ Dismissed to tea making, Colin put his finger to his lips so that only Bridget could see and rummaged around in the first aid kit. He put something in one of the enamel mugs.

“When the kettle boils, add some water to that first.” He whispered.

“What is it?”

“Something to stop them coming back and making themselves a nuisance again.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Granny takes it loads. She’s always going on about being, you know….”

“Going on about being what?”

Colin flushed red. “Regular. And sometimes she asks you in front of other people. She’s probably the most embarrassing grandmother there is. Anyway, she’s always telling people to take this senna stuff. She makes it like tea and drinks it cold.”

They heard Dorothea climb down into the dinghy again row away.

“She’s gone to get Peggy,” whispered Bridget. “It must be going to be alright.”

Bridget added the boiling water to the mug.

“Not too much,” whispered Colin. “We’ve got to add it to the tea so they won’t notice.”

“Doesn’t it taste odd? And wouldn’t it be doing them a favour?” asked Bridget putting the kettle back on for a minute to bring it to the boil. She reached out with a tea-spoon to taste.

“Don’t do that,” said Colin in panic, “If you’re fine and it just has more of an effect, it would be umm, unpleasant.”

Bridget dropped the teaspoon hastily and made the tea.

Mac shifted position in the cockpit and they heard his voice, suddenly louder, ”….Leider hat der Motor ein Problem..” and quieter again as he shifted position again.

“Let’s put loads of sugar in it, so it’s hard to tell.” suggested Colin. “What’s Elspeth doing?”

Bridget went to ask her.

“She is making it look as if the engine is broken.” she reported in a whisper. Colin looked worried.

“Does she know how to get it back together?”

“She’s just arranging a few spanners and rags and things to make it look like there is a problem.” explained Bridget. “We should probably pour that tea now.”

“You do Dad’s and I’ll do the other one.” whispered Colin.

Mac and the German sat in the cockpit drinking tea as Dorothea collected Peggy and rowed back with her. The German was talking, complaining by the tone of voice. Mac was listening, nodding occasionally. Peggy scrambled aboard, face impassive.

“Do I come up?” came Dot’s voice.

“No, we’re coming down.” Mac replied. “Peggy, you’re in charge of the ship while I go with Dot.”

He gestured for the German to precede him before following him into the dinghy. Bridget went and fetched another mug of tea for Peggy and started to scramble eggs. Colin disposed of the content of the other mugs overboard. There was an uneasy silence.

 “Hello, Dad’s making that Nazi get out over the stern.” said Elspeth.

“His feet are wet already.” said Colin. “Why did Dad go with Dot?”

“Didn’t want any chance of them using Dot as some sort of hostage. It’s the only time since Copenhagen that he’s been off _Sea-bear.”_ said Peggy.

“They hit Peggy for no good reason. Dad shouldn’t have been nice to them.” said Colin.

“Titty and Dick are still over there in the folder. He had to be. I made a mistake telling Titty and Dick to carry on.  We could be sailing away in five minutes time, if I hadn’t made the wrong decision.” said Peggy. “I don’t know what sort of trouble they’ll get into.”

“We’d be using the engine if we were.” Elspeth pointed out reasonably.

“Daddy says you can’t judge someone’s actions based on what you know afterwards, but only on what they know at the time.” said Bridget, handing Peggy a plate of scrambled eggs.

“Sometimes it’s harder to make allowances for yourself.” Peggy smiled, briefly, at Bridget. “Here’s Mac and Dot coming back. Go and give them a hand Colin. Colin, feeling somehow out of his depth, was happy to comply.

“Aggressive and nervous.” commented Mac, some minutes later eating his own scrambled egg, “Nasty combination.”

“Like a dog that backs away and growls being most likely to bite.” said Peggy.

“You saw that? Not bad.” said Mac. “I’m sorry you got bitten, as it were. Given what we are here for, we really aren’t in a position to complain, otherwise I would.  It was the flag that made them nervous. It would appear that not everyone is as enamoured with Hitler Youth as their newsreels would like us to believe. There are some illicit alternatives however, and those two are part of a unit in charge of stopping  youth groups camping without permits, or possibly they need to have the permit to have the group. My German grammar isn’t all it could be. Anyway, they were quite clear that only official Hitler Youth camps were permitted. I had to assure those two that we were merely a family group and that you hadn’t been illegally singing non-Nazi songs either. Those two appeared to be feeling rather overworked and resentful – there seems to have been a lot of trouble here recently and the other groups haven’t given in yet.”

“Good for them.” said Bridget.

“So what we do in Wolf Cubs would be illegal here?” asked Colin, incredulously.

 “I think so.” replied his father. “You had better get some sleep Peggy. I was going to make sure these three stayed up all day and were grateful for their sleep in future, but as we don’t know what will happen later on Elspeth and Bridget had better get their heads down too as soon as they’ve helped Colin with the washing up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Streifendienst (Patrol Force) was in 1938 “charged with surveillance on all young people” not just Hitler Youth. Its members were young there was a principle of “youth leading youth”. Among the offences they were expected to suppress were: singing prohibited songs, sloppy saluting, illicit camping and hiking, violating curfews and making up rude rhymes about Hitler. Two of the illicit groups had names ending………… pirates which made me think about how the patrol force might react to the skull and cross-bones. Reference “Hitler youth: The Hilterjugend in war and peace 1933-1945. By Brenda Ralph Lewis. 2000.” Sorry if I’m labouring the point – but I can see how it might seem incredible.


	31. Folding Boat

 

“If we go any further.” whispered Titty, “we’ll be visible again.”

They lurked, quite still, hearing the voices of the others disappear into the background noises of sea and gulls and the ragged remains of a dawn chorus somewhere behind them. It was getting a bit late in the year to expect more than a token effort at proclaiming territory, Dick thought. Some birds might be starting on second broods, if the Baltic summer was long enough to allow that. Many would have their hands full (or should that be beaks full?) with chicks at their hungriest. He supposed the real problem would be having an empty beak.

There was a lot of shouting in German.

“What are they saying?” Titty whispered.

“Something about camping and papers and forbidden and Hitler Youth.” Dick whispered back.

“I’m going to wriggle up and have a look.” she whispered.

“Let me go. It’s probably dangerous.”

“The sun glints of your specs, especially when it’s low in the sky like this.”

Titty really did do it very well indeed. Dick thought as she wriggled forward. It was a pity she was wearing white shorts. They weren’t really shorts, nor really a skirt, but those things that girls wore for games at school. Divided skirts, Dot called them. It was a pity they were white anyway. Dick supposed Titty had used them for tennis last term. Luckily the morning was still cool and fresh and she had an old grey pullover on over her yellow blouse.

It seemed a very long wait, lying as still as possible, looking at the soles of Titty’s gymshoes. Titty lay still and tense, not attempting to report back. Twice she lowered her face to the ground.  Once she flinched slightly. Dick did not know how long it was before he thought to look at his watch and make a note the time. It was half an hour after that when Titty slithered quietly back into place next to him and reported what she had seen.

“They went away westward.” she concluded “and Colin’s up on the cross-trees on look out.”

“Should we go back?”

“They could easily have signalled us back if they had wanted, and they didn’t. Let’s get this done as quickly as we can. We might be able to get round it before noon. It’s the only thing left undone.”

They got the folder launched as quietly as they could.

“Westwards first or eastwards?” Titty asked.

“West, we’ll have the sun behind us. We’ll see more that way.”

“I’ll row first,” she said. “I’m not very good with binoculars.”

“We may not be able to swop round very easily.” he warned.

“I don’t mind.”

Trying to hurry the folding boat was pointless. It was all too easy to start it spinning. Perhaps walking would have been more sensible, Dick thought. Titty was rowing as quietly as possible. Her face was intent on her task. He knew she was concentrating on getting it right, rowing as well as she possibly could. She was listening to the sound the oars made entering the water, feeling the pressure of the oars in her hands, using exactly the right amount of force to keep the folder travelling straight.  Dick jerked his attention back to his task – ashamed that his attention had wandered while hers had remained so resolutely on their job.

A few hundred yards later he said, “I suppose we’ll never know if they nested there again.”

There was no need to ask what he meant. “The Divers?” she asked anyway. “You could ask John for the address and write to the young McGinty. John had a Christmas card from him the first year after wards sending his best wishes to everyone. John might still have the address somewhere. He doesn’t seem to throw letters out very much.”

“John did write and tell me at the time. Of course, then it was too early to know if they would nest there again. I was glad to hear they raised the chicks though.”

“What’s that noise?” Titty’s voice sounded alarmed

 “Shooting. Target practice. We must be getting close to the camp we saw yesterday. Look here, we can see that there isn’t any way in or out at this end. Let’s cut across this corner and go east along the other shore.”

The sounds of shooting faded as they paddled away from the camp. On this shore the birch trees were taller and came right to the edge of the water. There was no Marram grass and few gorse bushes.

 Other young trees, were beginning to grow up between the birch and pine and had reached the height fair sized bushes. Titty and Dick felt sufficiently well-concealed to stop under an overhanging birch tree, tying the painter to a conveniently projecting tree root. Although it was still considerably before eleven, they shared the thermos flask of tea and ate some of the chocolate. Breakfast had been early.

“It’s only going to melt if we leave it any longer.” Dick pointed out. “We’ll be back by lunch-time I think.”

“You’ve learned a thing or two from Roger.” Titty remarked. “Let’s leave these apples for later.”

They took in in turns to explore a little way inland.

“Quite a lot of people have been through here recently.” reported Titty. “You can see the odd foot print where there’s a bit of mud in a dried up puddle.”  She pushed her pullover into the now lighter knapsack and swopped places with Dick.

They paddled on in silence for a while.

“Are you glad you came?” Dick asked abruptly.

“Today? In the folder? Yes, very much. It’s beautiful here. Peaceful, too.”

“It is.” said Dick,” But I meant this summer, this adventure. Are you glad you came to the Baltic?”

“Yes,” said Titty, putting the binoculars on her lap and tucking her hair back again. She had taken her sun hat off, first when she was scouting and for a second time when she found it interfered with the binoculars. They were so close to the shore they had some dappled shade from the trees that still grew right up to the water’s edge.  They continued in silence. Dick knew he was not rowing as quietly or quite a straight as Titty.

“I can see that there isn’t a gap in that direction. If we turn north-east now we can cut off another corner.” she said after a while.

“Be a human compass,” said Dick. “Point to where you want us to go.” He turned to the boat until Titty’s hand was pointing straight over the bows.

“It’s quite a bit deeper here.” said Titty when they were about thirty feet from the dense vegetation of the eastern shore “I don’t know if that means anything. Just stop rowing for a minute.” She carefully put the binoculars back in the case at the bottom of the folder and started feeling around in the knapsack.

“We haven’t seen any movement of the water, apart from what we’ve made ourselves. I’m pretty sure this is all enclosed you know. There’s no sign of even a stream entering it. I think this is all just rainwater – and what’s soaked through the sand. Maybe it wasn’t even here when they made the chart.” said Dick.

Titty pulled small brass item out of the knapsack it was attached to a coil of string. Dick reached out his hand to see it, fingers brushing slightly against hers.

“The brass weight was in one of the lockers – I don’t know how it got there. It looks as if it came from and ordinary pair of kitchen scales. I marked up the string last night with permanent ink. It shouldn’t run.” she explained, as she started to lower the weight over the stern of the folder. concentrating of paying out the string without tangling it.

Dick, trying to halt the folding boat’s drift and keep it as still as possible. did not see the shot. He saw the effect.

“What was that?” Titty said still leaning carefully over the stern of the folder.

“Air- rifle – I think. Get in the water in the port side. Stay under water as much as you can. Never mind about getting water in the boat. She’ll be letting in water faster than we can bail it out anyway.”

When he had joined her in the water, Dick pointed to one of the seams. Water was coming through it a quite an impressive rate.

“It’s only a tiny hole,” he said, “But it’s burst the stitching.”

“Couldn’t we push it to the shore before it sinks?”

“The near shore is where the shot came from. It’s probably just an accident, but we don’t want to run into them anyway.”

“We should swim to the shore we launched from then.” said Titty.

“You start then. Is there anything important in the knapsack?”

“My passport. It kept falling out of the pocket in my shorts. And there are your binoculars.”

“I’ll get them. You start swimming. Keep underwater as much as you can for the first bit. Most of the kinetic energy will be absorbed by the water.”

It wasn’t a sensible time to ask what exactly Dick meant. The thing to do was to get as nearly as possible to the place they had launched the folding boat. She started to swim, remembering the day in Horseshoe Cove when _Swallow_ had been holed on a rock and had sunk. At least the folding boat would be easier to get up and repair. The water probably wasn’t so deep here.

Dick felt around in the knapsack. His fingers touched the passport. Treading water, he wriggled it out and fastened it in his shirt pocket with his own. The folder had risen considerably when they had got out. But with the water in her, her gunwhales were now a lot lower. Dick felt round for his binoculars. Titty had fastened the case. Even if water got into them, something could be done later.  He slipped both arms through the strap, so that the binoculars lay on his back between his shoulder blades, and the strap was across the back of his neck. It wouldn’t slip around and get in the way when he swam. He couldn’t have done it without the folder to hang on to. It was very nearly under by now. Whoever had fired the shot must be pretty close to the edge. He hadn’t heard anyone moving about in the dense vegetation. Titty was well ahead of him now. If it _was_ deliberate, he would be the more tempting target. As he turned to swim after Titty, he felt some impact on the binocular case. He swam on. From the shore he heard a short laugh and a bit of scuffling. Idiots.

The water was getting shallower. Titty could probably have stood up and waded but this would not be quicker. She didn’t know what was on the bottom and had succeeded in kicking of her gym shoes. There was no sense in cutting her feet. No sense either in trying to swim back to the place they had started from.  The water was too shallow there. The thing to do would be to run along the beach until they could be picked up by the dinghy. The others would see them from the Sea _-bear_ and send the dingy across.  She picked a spot and made for it. Titty hid herself under a small alder tree overhanging the lake, still up to the knees in the shallow water. Had Dick seen where she had landed? She saw him change direction slightly. He had.

* * *

 

Bridget had begun to feel uneasy about the senna pods almost as soon as the deed was done. It wasn’t the sort of thing that Susan would approve of, but you could say that about a lot of things. She thought that maybe it was the sort of thing that Nancy would plan. She had heard her talking about putting something in her Great-Aunt’s tea plenty of times. It seemed to be some kind of on-going joke. But if that was the case, why did Bridget feel so reluctant to tell Dot and Peggy about it? Suddenly feeling sick, Bridget wondered what the Nazi would have done if he had tasted it and recognised what Colin had done. What would have happened to Peggy, a hostage on the shore? It hadn’t happened. She would just have to speak to Colin privately later. She would explain why they shouldn’t have done it; she would explain why she should have stopped him. Bridget turned over in her bunk and fell uneasily asleep.

* * *

 

“They’re coming back.” Colin reported from the cross-trees. “They’re running along the beach. They haven’t got the folder with them.”

“Wake up!” Dorothea rushed down in to the cabin, made sure Elspeth, Bridget and Peggy were awake and rushed back up in to cockpit.

“Peggy, are you fit to row to fetch them?”

“Of course.” Peggy scrambled down into the dinghy, took one long look to judge where she should aim to meet them and set off.

“There are two or three people stalking them, behind that first ridge of sand, the lower one.” reported Colin. “And another coming from the other direction. I don’t think he’s seen them yet.”

“How are they dressed, Colin?” asked his father.

“Hitler Youth uniforms both lots. The two who are stalking don’t look that much bigger than Bridget. It looks like they’ve got a gun with them. The one by himself is a big man. He’s seen them now. The two lads have seen the man; they’re hiding the gun.”

“Thank God.” Bridget heard Mac mutter.

“Titty and Dick have seen the lads – they’re running faster. The big man is starting to run now.”

“As soon as Peggy picks them up, get down here and help them aboard, Colin. Bridget, come here and don’t move from the tiller. Here, that’s your course, just as soon as we’re underway.  You’ll find it easier than under sail. Just stick to that course whatever happens unless I tell you otherwise. Elspeth, we need the engine. Dot, we’ve got two anchors to get up sharpish.”

“What about the folding boat?” asked Bridget.

“D ______ the folding boat! We’re going home.”

“I think the big man’s going to catch them. No, he isn’t he’s fallen over something in the sand. Red and white stripes – I think it’s the ranging pole. Titty and Dick are in the water. They’ve got in over the stern. They did it awfully neatly.”

“Down here, Colin!” bellowed his father.

Peggy was barely back aboard _Sea-bear_ before they were moving. Mac brushed aside explanations and apologies until later.

“Either of you hurt? No, then get some dry clothes on. You’re doing fine, Bridget.”

* * *

 

The sun had just set. Dot and Peggy had rolled out sleepily of their bunks and relieved Titty and Dick of the watch. It had been better to be busy, Dick had acknowledged to himself. Already the morning’s events seemed a long time ago. Before he slept, he would see what could be done about his binoculars. Sitting at the cabin table, he got them out of the case. Colin, in pyjamas, pattered out of his bunk to see.

“What’s that mark?”

 “Pellet from the air-rifle they were firing. It must have just grazed the leather. I thought I felt something when I was swimming.”

Colin was clearly impressed. Titty came in with two mugs of cocoa.

“Titty, have you seen? Dick’s got a bullet mark in his binocular case.”

Suddenly, Titty found that sounds seemed very far away and she felt sick. There was a hot, buzzing feeling in her head.

“Grab the mugs, Colin. Sit down Titty. Put your head down on the table. You’ll feel alright in a minute. It wasn’t a bullet, it was only a pellet.” With her head down she was beginning to feel as bit better. “Keep your head down for a few more minutes.” Now she could feel Dick’s arm around her shoulders.

“Colin, you’re a blithering idiot. What business had you to frighten her like that? Get back to your bunk.” Titty didn’t think she had ever heard Dick sound that angry before, though he kept his voice low. Colin pattered back to his bunk.

After a pause, Dick continued in a tone Titty had also never heard before. “Oh sweetheart, it was only an air-gun pellet. Colin’s just being a fool.”

Titty raised her head. There was a lump in her throat. She could feel the tears in her eyes. She mustn’t make an idiot of herself and cry in front of Dick.

“We heard them shooting earlier. It could so easily have been.” She couldn’t keep her voice steady. Apparently it was alright after all to cry on Dick’s shoulder with his arms around her.

“Sorry to be an idiot.” she said eventually.

“You’re not an idiot.” She couldn’t find her handkerchief. He handed his, and the neatly folded, perfectly ironed square of white cotton seemed so incongruous with all that had happened that day that it nearly set her off crying again.

There was a silence, which might have become awkward if it had continued. Mac entered the cabin with two enamel mugs and a bottle.

“I brought this in case I needed to bribe anyone, but, being a Scotsman, it seems to me that a wee dram might be a good idea.”

Titty took the proffered mug and sniffed it cautiously before taking a very small sip. She had never tasted whiskey before. She had to make herself take the second sip and felt relieved that the dram was indeed small. Mac was looking at her quizzically.

“What do you think about it?” he asked.

Titty wanted to say that she didn’t like it at all.

 Instead she said “It is interesting.” and realised that it was true.

“I’ll not tell anyone to hurry a good single malt, but you both need your sleep. Don’t be too long.”

And Mac went, taking a mug of cocoa with him.

They sipped in companionable silence. Eventually, with one more sip left, Titty asked,

“Did you mean to call me sweetheart, just now?”

“I didn’t think you had noticed. I meant it, even if I didn’t quite mean to say it. Do you mind?”

She was aware of him looking at her. She took the last sip of whiskey and met his eyes, fixed anxiously on her face.

“I liked it.”

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to Fergus Mason for sacrificing his time and a pair of trousers in order to work out how to sink a folding boat with an air-rifle.


	32. Chapter 32

 

Quite ironic really, thought Jim Turner as he carelessly signed C.T. Flint in the hotel register.  Reaching Helsinki was always something of a relief, although it didn’t do to relax too much. The telephone rang and the girl answered it. The place was clean (as regards dirt – he wouldn’t like to answer for anything else) but the staff were unusually surly. They had only four types of customers that he could see, those seeking a divorce, those seeking an affair, a few commercial travellers and people like himself. None were likely to endear themselves to the staff, or with the exception of the commercial travellers, complain about surly service. Out of habit, he flicked back through the register. He froze as two signatures stood out. He checked the names and the date again. He checked all the other names for that date. He checked the room number. Just one number. The time checked in was late evening. There was no actual check out time given – just a note to say that the room had been found empty with the key in the door at 7am. As long as the bill was paid (and this had been paid, cash, when the booking was made) no-one here would bat an eyelid. The girl was holding out the room key. He pocketed it and carried his own bag up to his room, with a sour taste in his mouth.

* * *

 

He had half-convinced himself that it was a mistake, that there was some perfectly reasonable explanation. Just because he didn’t recognise the other signatures for that day didn’t mean they were alone. Helsinki to Stockholm. Stockholm to London. Debrief in London.

 He collected his letters from the bank. A lot more letters than usual. Molly’s letter first. Always Molly’s letter first. She was well- both girls well- a lot to tell him – very busy – I must say Nancy is coping very well – arrived back yesterday –tired of course and I’m not surprised- come home as soon as possible – much too complicated to  explain in a letter- have to catch the post.  He glanced at the date. The letter had been waiting for him for some time. There were no other letters from Molly or either of his nieces. Aunt Maria next. More openly vitriolic than usual. All men disgusting animals – degeneracy of modern youth – total absence of moral guidance – not surprised that…. Jim read the second and third pages with more attention then went back and read the first. He looked through the remaining envelopes. The ones with other postmarks could wait. Four letters. All dated the day after Molly’s letter. Opinion was divided on where the blame lay, but they all told the same story.

He took less than a minute to decide. He wasn’t going north today. He was going to find John Walker and make him wish he had never been born.

* * *

 

“And did you change the baby’s nappy?” John asked.

“Did I - why the hell do you think I would do that?” Captain Flint roared. It was probably clearly audible beyond the small borrowed cabin.

“Well, he normally needs it every couple of hours or so. I thought you might have done it. “John replied calmly.

“You have left my niece quite literally holding the baby and you expect me to act as nursemaid to your squalling and utterly revolting brat! This goes beyond all bounds.”

John fixed the older man with an icy glare until he spluttered into silence.

“If, sir, you don’t choose to take my word for it, you might take the word of your own niece. If you doubt her, changing the boy’s nappy would have shown you that he is very unlikely to be my son. Or Nancy’s come to that. I believe it is the religion of the mother who counts. Until the David’s parents come for him, or send for him, or we can find a Jewish family who will foster him, she is determined to look after him. I have a commission I cannot resign, so there is very little I can do to stop her from holding the baby. I had a something of a job to get her to accept the money to support him.”

“You expect me to believe….. some rigmarole… why on earth should some Jewish couple foist their child on you ….and you were together all summer. And I saw your names are together on a hotel register in Helsinki.” Captain Flint spluttered.

“All last autumn would have been more to the point.” said John drily. “The relevant length of time is nine months. If I didn’t know before, I would once I had seen that just about everyone about the Lake could count nine months backwards.  Mostly they use their fingers. Last October you will find, if you care to make the enquiry, that Nancy and I were never closer to each other than five hundred miles.  As for the hotel register, she slept in the bed, I slept in the chair. We were being followed. We could not have gone back to the _Goblin_ in the dark, safely. Not our choice of hotel, I might add, but then if you were there I rather suspect you know more about it than _amateurs_ like us.“

John surveyed his uncle-to-be critically. A lot of things about Jim Turner fell into place in John’s mind. That didn’t excuse the way he was behaving now.

 “They seem to have told you very little at Beckfoot.” John continued, “And you haven’t seen the baby at all.” He allowed a very slight query into his voice.

Jim Turner dropped his eyes. “I haven’t actually been to Beckfoot. I came straight here as soon as came back to England and got the letters”

“This wouldn’t be a letter from your aunt, would it?”

“If it was only from her, it wouldn’t have bothered me so much. I have various friends about the lake, who told me about the baby.”

“We had to return home rather quickly with some information that was not about naval charts. We went overland and together. We did think we were going to be safer together. Perhaps we were wrong. It was very nearly all up with us, but a kind couple saw what was happening and hid us. We knew it was at considerable risk to their own lives. We asked if there was anything we could do in return. Their son was only a few weeks old. They are Jewish. They asked us to take him back to England with us. They gave us an address in London. David’s uncle. We took him there. They didn’t want him.” John swallowed, “I suppose they really couldn’t keep him. They had already taken in two other children and had three of their own.”

Jim saw John abruptly run out of energy. The confident and fluent naval officer had vanished. The schoolboy of nine years ago was back, desperately disappointed at the injustice of the world and far too proud to complain on his own account.  “And I’m the same hot-headed, cantankerous fool I was then.” thought Jim. He held out his hand to John.

“I apologise; you would have thought I’d learned my lesson by now. I misjudged you and hope you can accept my apology.”

John smiled at him, but did not yet take the offered hand.

“Apology accepted – although I think my fiancée deserves one too.”

To do him credit, Jim Turner scarcely needed a second to work out what John was telling him. He was shaking John’s hand vigorously, and clapping him on the shoulder heartily with the other hand almost instantly.

“That’s the best news I’ve had all year.” He said, “She’ll drive you mad and lead you a merry dance, but you will do her all the good in the world.”

“I know very well that I’m lucky.”

* * *

 

“Hello, Wimsey.”

“Fancy meeting you here, Turner.  What are you doing with yourself these days? Or is it still all frightfully hush-hush?”

“I’ve made no end of an ass of myself being totally unjust and completely beastly to my future nephew-in-law.”

“I thought you looked a bit down in the mouth. Are you heading back to town?   
Can I give you a lift? Bunter is just tootling around with the Lagonda now. Weather’s a bit miserable for traipsing to the station. ”

“That’s very kind of you, I shouldn’t impose, but…….”

“Not to worry. I’ll swop you the yarn for the lift….. that is, if the story is yours to tell. Confession is good for the soul. Come and tell your Uncle Peter everything.”

Jim was bustled into the car, but when they were on the road did not know where to begin.

“Awkward thing, what, to be at daggers drawn with the in-laws. My wife doesn’t hit it off with her sister-in-law, although it’s really quite understandable. “

“She doesn’t like Lady Mary?” said Jim, astonished. He had met Lady Mary Wimsey as a girl not yet out and thought her delightful.

“Helen.”

Jim nodded. He had met the Duchess of Denver too.

“I don’t think we are at daggers drawn. What my niece will say or do is another matter.”

“Is this Bob’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

“If it’s the eldest, I met her once as a small baby. Nice enough baby, but they all seemed the same to me in those days. How has she turned out?”

“Bright lass. Headstrong, generous, any amount of guts, wildly inventive. Doesn’t know what defeat means; she’ll just try something else until she achieves her objectives. Fortunately she’s pretty competent. Kept the whole countryside round the guessing what mad scheme she’ll come up with next as a girl.”

“And her betrothed?”

“Naval officer. Even more competent and generally more meticulous. Eldest of five. Superb sailor. Attracts responsibility like Nancy attracts trouble. Delightful family. Would be nearly a prig – except that he isn’t.”

“The sensible, balancing influence?”

“Except that just occasionally, he’ll take an even wilder risk. Generally pulls it off too.”

“So what’s the problem? They sound ideal for each other. Lid for every pot and all that.”

“They have certain …… problems at the moment. Of course, I now realise they couldn’t with decency do anything else.”

“You intrigue me. Anything I can do to help?”

“Unless you happen to have a couple of Jewish foster parents handy for a small baby, no. I don’t think anyone can help.”

“Oh, if that’s all.” said Lord Peter, “nothing could be easier. We’ll buzz round and see Freddy and Rachel Arbuthnot in the morning. They don’t both have to be Jewish do they? Save the rest of the story until we get home, my wife would love to hear it. She has to take it a bit easy at the moment and I think she would welcome a distraction. You can stay the night with us, can’t you?” 

 

* * *

 

“Peter, aren’t there any strings you could pull.” said Harriet later on in the privacy of their bedroom.

“For whom?”

“The boy’s parents. Think how we would feel if it was Bredon. I don’t know that I would be brave enough to make that decision.”

“He’ll be well enough with Freddy and Rachel. There’s still a chance the parents will escape eventually.”

“It’s the eventually that bothers me, Peter. If it’s too late, it won’t be the happy ending that it ought to be.”

“Too many scars? Too much distance?”

“And a son who sees them as a stranger. That’s exactly it, Peter.”

“I’ll defer to a novelist’s judgement in the matter, Harriet, and I’ll do my best, but I can make no promises.” His tone changed abruptly. “Are you alright?”

She smiled wryly. “Our son or daughter is determined to wake up just as I want to sleep.”

“Our little actor – or actress. Shall I put the light out?”

“Yes, why acting?”

“Late hours – and the pleasure of seeing Helen’s face when she finds out.” 

 


	33. Chapter 33

 

There was a professional photographer, a Mrs Bunter. There was some connection with the people who had fostered little David, but Dick wasn’t quite sure what the connection was, and did not like to ask. She was one of the first people to arrive at the small church and Dick opened the gate for her. She was happy to talk about photography with him and took a couple of pictures of the church against the backdrop of the lake. Dick decided not to take a photograph of the church. He only had eight pictures.

“It’s a wonderful setting,” she commented, “but I have to wonder why it is here. It’s clearly at least a hundred years old, and I wouldn’t have said it was much more, although architecture isn’t my _forte._ I mainly take portraits. It doesn’t seem to be close to anything – it isn’t as close to the road as you would expect. It can’t be the main parish church, surely?”

“The main parish church is on the other side of the lake, I think,” said Dick, “although I believe they do still have services here twice a month. I suppose it would be seven miles or so to walk. Not quite so far in a boat.”

“You have to cross two fields to reach it from the road. I would have thought most brides would object to that. Or this that just me being very much town-bred?” said Mrs Bunter.

“Nancy isn’t most brides.” said Dick. “I wouldn’t put it past her to decide to turn up in _Amazon_ at the last minute.”

“ _Amazon?”_

“ _Amazon_ is a sailing dinghy. She shares it with her sister.”   

“What does it look like? What colour is the sail?” asked Mrs Bunter quickly

“Varnished wood, white sail. Very pretty.” Dick admitted, “But not quite so pretty as _Scarab.”_

_“Scarab?”_

_“_ Our dinghy – mine and my sister’s. We left her at Beckfoot and I walked. My sister and my parents will be coming a bit later. _Scarab_ has a red sail so she looks even better.”

“Red won’t contrast so well with the woods opposite so well on a photograph.” Mrs Bunter said. “If you do spot this _Amazon_ coming this way, give me as much warning as possible, won’t you? It isn’t the kind of photograph I should hate to miss.”

Dick went around the edge of the chapel to see what the edge of the lake was like at that point.

“It’s far too rocky. He reported to Mrs Bunter. “Nancy would never risk trying to beach _Amazon_ here.”

* * *

 

The minister had arrived and just before John, Roger and their parents. Dorothea and his own parents arrived soon after.

“Are you nervous about the reading?” he asked his sister.

“Not as bad as I could be.” she replied. “I slipped into the chapel to practice by myself nearly every day last term.”

Other guests started to arrive quickly after this.

Dick took a photograph of Dorothea introducing Lady Peter Wimsey to John and Roger. He made a second print for Dorothea, which she treasured because of her admiration for Harriet Vane. He made a third print for Susan, who enjoyed detective novels.

* * *

 

The bridesmaids arrived early.

“I thought all those little buttons down the back would take longer than they did.” said Susan. She caught Dick’s puzzled expression.  “Nancy’s back – not ours.”

“It’s the getting them undone that takes the time.” said Peggy.

He left his post by the stack of hymn books to Bridget and Susan for a few minutes while he took Titty round to the side of the church facing the lake to show her the family of mice emerging – he thought for the first time – from their nest in the bottom of a drainpipe. The picture of Titty, with the lake behind her, stayed with him for the rest of his life. He never really needed the photograph itself to remember it. Nevertheless, more than sixty years later it was in the inside pocket of his suit as they lowered him into his coffin.

* * *

 

“Look at the Great- Aunt,” said Peggy to Dick, quietly, “She can’t make up her mind whether to suck-up to Lady Peter Wimsey or look down her nose at Harriet Vane.”

“I thought they were the same person?” asked Bridget, who was standing nearby.

“They are.” said Dick.

“Then why would your Great Aunt look down her nose?” Bridget asked.

“Bother. I shouldn’t have said anything.” said Peggy, “Of course you won’t remember.”

“I can’t help being younger.”

“Of course you can’t. Listen, but don’t ask any more questions.” and Peggy whispered rapidly in Bridget’s ear, pretending to check her circlet of flowers.

Bridget’s face was a picture.

“Good for them.” was all she said.   

* * *

 

“Timothy needs help” Dick muttered to Dorothea. His fellow usher appeared to be getting the worst of it in a dispute with the Great-Aunt. (Even Dick and Dorothea found it hard to think of her as anything else.)

“Do you think she’s recognised him?” Dorothea asked.

“No chance in that smart suit. Just go and rescue him. You know this isn’t the sort of crisis he can cope with. I can’t go, people keep arriving.” he replied. “Hello, Mrs Jackson, Mr Jackson. How lovely to see you Doctor. Mr and Mrs Arbuthnot would you like to sit here next to Mr and Mrs Dixon.”

It was a good few minutes before he could look round to see how exactly Dorothea had dealt with the Great Aunt. He saw the Great Aunt occupying Dorothea’s place next to Nancy’s Aunt Helen and her friend. Dorothea had moved back to sit next to the Doctor. She would have done better to put herself in the Great-Aunt’s place, next to Cook. He supposed Dorothea could hardly have moved herself forward.

“That young woman asked me to be an usher just to be sure I would turn up.” said Timothy.

Since that had, after all, been Nancy’s plan, there was little Dick could say to this. He was spared the necessity of replying because Anna and Jan had arrived with little David. Nancy had suggested that they should sit next to the doctor, but Dot was sitting there now. Dick had heard the story of all they had been through and the risk they had taken to shelter Nancy and John. There was no way he was going to squeeze them in a back pew as some kind of after-thought. He ushered them to the place next to Cook in the second row from the front. He caught a glimpse of the Great-Aunt’s face as he hurried back to the church door. If he’d taken a picture it would have shattered the lens, he thought.

“Time for you to go and stand at the front.” Timothy said to John, glancing at his watch. John stood at the front, Roger beside him. Dick could see Roger patting his pocket yet again to check the ring was safe.

The Walker parents sat down. Mrs Blackett came hurrying along the path.

“I kept telling her that brides aren’t meant to be early. And Peggy, she’s insisting that she’s going to wear her “comfortables” instead of that nice, new going-away suit and hat. She says why risk spoiling it when it might come in useful later. Of course that’s just an excuse. What Aunt Maria will say I don’t know; she’s only just come round to the idea of John being respectable at all. Oh I’m sorry Susan, I didn’t mean like that, it’s just that Aunt Maria..”

“Mother,” Peggy said firmly, “Let me put your hat on straight. Now have you got your handkerchief? And a spare? Now let Timothy take you to sit down, and try not to worry.”

Dick would like to have taken a photograph of Peggy and her mother together, but this was clearly not the moment.

Nancy had been hovering by the gate at the top of the field and started to walk down the path as soon as her mother went into the church. She might be about to walk up the aisle on her uncle’s arm but she certainly didn’t it need to negotiate a (mercifully fairly dry) path through a field. She was walking fairly briskly, her long, full, ankle- length skirt seemingly not impeding her at all. Captain Flint walked as if his shoes hurt him. When Dick developed the photograph he took then he thought she looked like a Tudor queen. Perhaps it was the square neckline or the confident air of an intelligent woman who knows exactly what she’s doing and is quite sure it’s the right thing.

* * *

 

Mrs Bunter and the ushers were under instructions to let the photographs take as long as possible outside the church, to allow Billy Lewthwaite to drive Cook and his mother back to Beckfoot to put the finishing touches to the wedding breakfast. The ushers had no difficult in this and lining everyone up in various combinations took quite some time. When the photograph of the bride and groom, best man and bridesmaids had been taken, Nancy and John called for Dorothea and Dick to join them. A friend of John’s named David Williams – the only man in uniform apart from John himself and his father – offered to take a photograph with Dick’s camera. He had made a good job of it, Dick reflected later when he printed the picture.

* * *

 

Cook had, predictably, excelled herself in the matter of the cold buffet, and it was probably just as well that there were speeches and toasts before any dancing. Captain Flint’s speech was longest. Roger’s speech was as funny as he had intended it to be. John’s speech was comparatively short, but had both the mothers and all the bridesmaids except Bridget, in tears. Dick thought even the Great Aunt’s eyes looked a little moist, unlike though it seemed.

Dick had noticed that Captain Flint had his accordion handy and was expecting that he would be playing it, but when the French windows to the lawn had been opened it was Lord Peter who sat down at the piano and provided the music. Dick thought that Nancy and John looked remarkably composed as they started to dance. Captain Flint danced (not very well) with Mrs Walker. Captain Walker danced with Mrs Blackett. They both did rather well, and so did Roger and Peggy. Dick was about to ask Titty to dance but before he could do so, Susan whispered to him.

“Dance with me now! Quickly!”

“But isn’t Timothy, meant to..”

“Disappeared, of course. Quickly!”

As Dick started to dance with Susan, he saw the Walker’s friend Jim, who had been approaching, veer to one side and ask Dorothea to dance instead. Dick angled himself round to see who Titty was dancing with, stepping on Susan’s feet in the process. Titty looked happy dancing with Williams. Dick could not help wishing that she would look rather less happy. He then felt angry with himself for feeling jealous and at the end of the dance took a photograph of the two of them together by way of a penance. Eight months later, he sent a copy to Williams’ mother. Dick felt no compunction about begging chemicals from Mrs Bunter to send a mother the last photograph of her son.

Mindful of his duties, Dick found he spent more time dancing and less time taking photographs than he would like. Dancing with Mrs Walker, he saw Mrs Blackett watching John and Nancy dance with tears running down her face. He looked back at Mrs Walker for help, but did not know how to begin.

“Umm” he said, and got not further.

“I don’t think we need the rest of this dance do we?” Mrs Walker said softly and steered them both over to Mrs Blackett before leaving him to find his camera.

 He photographed Anna and Jan dancing together, just outside the French window.  He sent them a copy. Anna wrote back to thank him quickly. One sentence stuck in his mind. _This is a happy reminder of the day when I realised that truly that we belonged in your beautiful country and would be happy and fortunate both to raise our son as an Englishman._ When things were especially difficult in the coming years, Dick would take out this letter and pin it up wherever he was working.

He saw his parents talking earnestly to Mrs Bunter on the seat just outside the French windows. He was going to take their picture, but Lady Peter appeared quietly at his elbow.

“Perhaps you could rescue Mr Bunter from that rather enthusiastic little bridesmaid instead. I think she has rather more energy than he has.”

Captain Flint and his accordion took over from Lord Peter and the piano and the dancing got even livelier. The some of the older people sat down. Mrs Dixon was sitting on one of the rugs on the lawn. David was standing up holding her fingers in each hand and babbling. Mr Dixon was standing behind her with an expression Dick could not begin to understand. The little group obeyed the rules he had read for a good competition, but this seemed to Dick a moment too private to be photographed.

He looked around and saw John and Nancy talking together with their heads just touching. They were not looking at each other but instead both looking at the same thing.  All the same, they were totally absorbed in what each other were saying and Dick doubted they were even registering the unremarkable sight of Peggy dancing with Jim. Dick thought it the best of the eight photographs.

* * *

 

“Is that dress very uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not uncomfortable at all, really.”

“You look beautiful in it. Do you really have to change it some other outfit? It’s not as if we’re going somewhere by train.”

“You’d like to sail to Wild-Cat Island with me in my wedding dress?”

“Why not?”

Nancy turned slightly to look at his expression. She was pretty confident she knew how to interpret it by now.

“Why not indeed?” she grinned.

Peggy and Jim danced past. Nancy was fairly sure Jim was trying to make Susan a little jealous. She doubted it would have the intended effect and quietly very said as much to John.

“So long as Peggy realises what he’s doing.” John replied.

“She’s probably worked it out.”

“How much longer until we can go to Wild –Cat Island?”

“It’s our wedding, we can go when we like.  Shall we ask Uncle Jim just to play one more dance?”

“It might be better to make that another one with the piano.” Jim Turner said, red faced and perspiring. “I wonder where Wimsey has got to.”

“I wouldn’t claim to be as talented as Lord Peter, but I trust I can manage a simple dance tune.” said the Great-Aunt. “I take it Ruth, you would prefer a waltz?”

“Yes please, Aunt Maria, that would be perfect.”

John thought the Great-Aunt looked rather pleased as Nancy kissed her on the cheek in thanks.

* * *

 

The romantic, old-fashioned waltz sounded so clearly like the last dance, that Dick put his camera down on the nearest table and went straight over to Titty. He had lost count of how many times she had danced with Williams (and he had been counting). He arrived at her side at the same time as Williams and slightly before Jim Brading. He dare not hesitate. He held out his hand.

“May I?”

Titty took his hand and they danced. 

When Nancy and John went upstairs to change, Roger and Dick got _Amazon_ out of the boat-house. They put a few last minute items of luggage in – mainly even more food - and stuffed as much confetti in unexpected places as they could.

“Although we used most of it setting up camp yesterday.” said Roger regretfully.

Dick was surprised to see Nancy still wearing her wedding dress as she walked down the lawn hand in hand with John. If only he hadn’t left his camera in the house. As _Amazon_ started to slip away down the river, Titty handed him his camera. She really was wonderful.

He managed to take the photograph just as the bouquet left Nancy’s hand.

* * *

 

“You haven’t thrown your bouquet.” said John, “No aiming it deliberately.”

“As if I would, or could!”

“You’re a woman who serves carefully counted plum-stones,” he said severely, “and if you want to hit something or someone you can.”

His wife grinned at him unrepentantly, closed her eyes and threw.

“Don’t tell me who caught it.” she said. “I don’t want to know.”

It was sometime later before he realised that Nancy had probably chosen her target before she closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The church and the mice are real, and really in the Lake district close to a lake.


	34. Honeymoon on Wild Cat Island

 

John carried her ashore.

“Special occasion.” he said.

They walked up to the look-out point and stood there together for a while.

“You see where that duck just landed?”

“Yes?”

“That’s about where you were the first time I ever saw you.”

There was another silence, long but not empty or in the least bit awkward. The path back to the camp was narrow, but they managed to walk along it hand in hand.

* * *

 

“Who actually owns Wildcat Island?” he asked once they had kindled the fire again next morning. They had forgotten to bank it up in Susan-approved fashion last night.

“We do.” Nancy replied, snuggling up next to him on the log bench

He wrapped his arms round her.

“I actually meant legally.”

“So do I.” she said. “Father bought it when he bought Beckfoot. He made a will when he married mother and left the island to me. He didn’t know it was going to be me of course; it just said “eldest surviving child.” I only found out about it when I was twenty-one. Mother and Uncle Jim knew all along of course, but I’m quite glad they didn’t tell me before then. It would have ruined it somehow if I knew.”

It was so calm that even Nancy and John had to admit that rowing across to the Dixon’s farm for milk was the more for milk sensible option. Dick was already loading camping gear into _Scarab._

“I thought you weren’t going to Swallowdale until tomorrow.” said John, once _Amazon_ was next to _Scarab._

“My parents thought, the way things are going, they had better get back to London sooner rather than later. So they’re going back today, even if it is a Sunday service on the railway. There are all sorts of irreplaceable artefacts that need packing up and labelling and evacuating to the cellars of a stately home somewhere. Dot thought we ought to go with them but they were dead set against either of us going back to London. So we decided last night to set up camp today. I think your parents had decided to go a day earlier too.”

“Maybe we had better go along to Holly Howe before we pick up the milk.” Nancy suggested. “It would be just as quick to go by road, quicker really, because of saying good-bye to the Callums as well.”

“Unless they row to Wild-Cat and we miss them.” said John.

“I’ll see and signal them if they do.” said Dick.

Nancy hurried them through the good byes with the Callum parents and they set off briskly to Holly Howe.

Bridget greeted them as they arrived at Holly Howe.

“I might not be going back to school at the start of term, depending on what happens.” she announced. “Mother and Daddy are going back today instead of tomorrow. They were going to row across to say good-bye, but Roger and Daddy saw you rowing across to Dixon’s from Darien, I mean, Daddy and Roger were on Darien and saw you rowing to Dixon’s. And guess what? Mrs Blackett says if there is going to be an evacuation, she’s written to see if Elspeth and Colin want to come to Beckfoot and Mac and Mrs Mac said yes, but they won’t send them yet unless things get lot worse. Isn’t that a brilliant?”

Nancy managed not to say, “I know” and instead offered “I suppose Glasgow would be a target for bombing.”

“Where is everyone else?” asked John.

“Mother and Daddy are upstairs, talking to Titty. She’s not very happy because they won’t let her go and sign up for anything and say she’s got to stay here until we see what happens.”

John went upstairs to find his parents and sister.

“I say, you don’t have to go dashing off somewhere do you?” Bridget continued.

“Until I get some kind of further orders, I’m not even sure where I would report to at the moment.” Nancy replied, “and I’m not expecting anything to arrive until the end of the week at least. Where are Roger and Susan?”

“Susan’s already packed. She was going today, anyway. She’s in the kitchen with Roger, sorting out stores for the camp. _I_ think we should leave a secret store of supplies in Peter Duck’s cave in case of invasion. We might have to be outlaws like Robin Hood.”

“Put them in a tin-box and hide it well if you do. Better ask Titty what she thinks first. The cave is really her discovery.” Nancy was suddenly finding it hard work to maintain her usual air of cheerful confidence.

“Titty said not to tell Elspeth and Colin about Peter Duck’s cave.” Bridget sounded a little disappointed.

“Then she’s right. Titty usually is right about that sort of thing.” Nancy saw Bridget’s face and carried on. “I’m not saying they would deliberately say anything, but the more people know a thing the easier it is for accidents to happen. If war does break out, there will probably be lots of things that I shouldn’t tell John and lots that he shouldn’t tell me. It doesn’t mean we don’t trust each other.”

Bridget’s expression was no longer rebellious. Nancy felt she had said enough.

“Let’s go and help Susan and Roger.” she suggested.  

“Well I was right to delay making up my mind. I mean it’s obvious that university would be the wrong thing now. Dad agrees with me. He doesn’t even mind that it’s not the Navy that I want to join.” Roger was saying as they entered.

“I’m not saying you’re doing the wrong thing. And I don’t think he ever did mind about the RAF; you just thought he did.” Susan said. She had seen Nancy and Bridget enter, but continued, “I’m just saying don’t keep talking about it to such an extent that Titty feels she has to rush off and do something without telling anybody. You know how she gets wound up about things.”

Nothing else Susan could have done would have made it quite so clear that she now regarded Nancy as family.

“I hope Bridget didn’t bounce your mother into making an offer she’s going to regret.” Susan continued, speaking to Nancy now.

“I think it was mainly Peggy’s idea. She’ll be around to keep an eye on them. They won’t let her just drop the post-office job like that, whatever happens.” Nancy replied. ”And I’d just as soon Mother and Cook had someone near at hand to fuss over. It’ll be rotten for them listening to the news and remembering the last one. Cook’s husband died in the last war, Bridget. You don’t need to mention it unless she does, but I’d rather you knew.”

  There was a pause.

“Shiver my timbers,” Nancy said quite in her old fashion. “We don’t even know if there is going to be a war.” She tried not to catch Susan’s eyes.

“Prepare for the worst and hope for the best, Mrs Walker.” Mrs Jackson said as she entered the kitchen and joined in the laughter with the other three as Nancy looked around for her mother –in-law then blushed furiously as she realised her mistake.

“Nay, that’s something we all take a bit of time to get used to.” Mrs Jackson reassured her.

John and Nancy waited to say goodbye to his parents and somehow found themselves stopping for Sunday dinner at Holly Howe.

“I was planning to feed two more. You may as well.” said Mrs Jackson.

“The Callums aren’t setting out until after dinner either.” said Titty, “because Mrs Dixon thought their parents would still be here.”

“Peggy won’t be able to come until the afternoon.” said Susan. “Because of the Great-Aunt being there.”

After they had eaten and thanked Mrs Jackson, John and Nancy went back to collect _Amazon._

“Give us the knapsacks and we’ll take them along to Horseshoe Cove in _Amazon_.” said John. “And anything else you think we can carry. It’s still calm and you won’t want to make two trips rowing.”

John and Nancy found they were the last to arrive at Horseshoe Cove. _Scarab and Swallow_ wereemptied out and pulled up well. Peggy was sitting on a convenient rock waiting for them, next to the pile of things to be taken up on the second trip. The others were already carrying things to Swallowdale.

“How is it going at home?” Nancy asked.

“Cook was so chuffed that Dorothea moved the Great- Aunt back a row and not her that she hasn’t threatened to give notice once yet. Aunt Helen and her friend came for lunch and the Great-Aunt was so busy rubbing it in that she was staying at Beckfoot and Aunt Helen wasn’t that, she forgot to ask any awkward questions. Mother is getting a bit worried that Elspeth and Colin will get lost on the way here if there is a big evacuation so she rang and asked the Mac’s to send them tomorrow.”

“How did the Great-Aunt take that?” John asked.

“Well you know how she does that thing where she invites herself and then when she’s here decides she’s enjoying herself so she’ll stay just a bit more? It turns out that the 28th was the day she mentioned in her letter as the day she would go home. Just by luck, mother had kept the letter and actually knew where it was.  So she looks all wide eyed and innocent”

“The Great Aunt?” Nancy interrupted.

“No, you galoot, mother did. So Mother looks all wide-eyed and innocent and fishes the letter out from a pocket where she just _happens_ to have it and says _but Aunt Maria I’m sure it said here.._ And then Aunt Helen piped up and said that of course _they_ would be going back to town tomorrow to be ready for anything they could do to help. And the Great-Aunt isn’t quite sure who Aunt Helen’s friend is, and that mistake she made with father’s friend who came to the wedding is uppermost in her mind what with seeing him only yesterday. So the Great Aunt says _Of course you must do your duty, Molly,_ as if it was her idea in the first place and let the matter drop. Cook is helping her pack now – she said she was glad to do it, Sunday or no Sunday, luckily not where the Great-Aunt could hear her.” Peggy finished her story.

“So Elspeth and Colin are arriving tomorrow? At least they get to camp. Titty said they never had.” John remarked.

“Mother wants them to spend the first night actually at Beckfoot. She’s asked for Titty and Bridget to come back and spend tomorrow night at Beckfoot, and then they can go and camp if they want to.”

* * *

 

After the clear, still day, the evening was quite chilly and they abandoned the log bench and sat next to the fire. They had reached the tea and apples and biscuits stage of the meal when Nancy whispered,

 “Don’t move suddenly, but look slowly to your right and down.”

There, standing with its front paws on the enamel plate was a hedgehog, licking the chocolate off the top of a biscuit.

* * *

 

The next morning there was enough wind to sail. They got up late. They swam around the island (John won but it was close.) They sailed up to the Arctic and down to the Antarctic.

If it wasn’t for what they read in the newspaper they bought at the head of the lake, it would have been the perfect day.

“It is still a perfect day, really.” Nancy pointed out.

“We’ll just have to make the most of it – I don’t think we’ve got until the end of the week, somehow.” John replied.

They saw the others sailing _Scarab_ and _Swallow_ and waved, but were not close enough to exchange even shouts. Neither of them wanted to spend time with anyone else that day.

* * *

 

The sunlight was filtering through the canvas, but it was still early when he woke up. Nancy was snuggled against his chest with her back to him, breathing softly and evenly. Gently, he kissed the back of her neck which was warm and her bare shoulder which was cooler where her nightdress had slipped to one side. He felt rather than heard her breathing speed up slightly.

“You don’t fool me, Nancy Walker,” he murmured quietly in her ear, “I know perfectly well that you’re awake.”

“I didn’t want you to stop doing that.” she whispered, but she rolled over in his arms so that she could see the expression in his eyes and kissed him.

“Ahoy! Ahoy!” Titty’s shout came from the landing place.

 John groaned. “We told them to stay away unless invited.” he said. “Shall we just ignore them?”

“Titty wouldn’t intrude unless it was urgent. We’d better see what she wants. She sounds as if she’s still afloat.”

“I think I can guess what it is.” John said grimly. “You go, I’ll have to find some clothes first.”

“Yes.” Nancy grinned at him, pulling a jumper over her nightdress.

“If you smile at me like that, poor Titty will be sitting out on the lake for the rest of the day.”

Nancy went down to the landing place and John found a pair of shorts and a jumper and followed her. Titty was looking grave. Nancy was reading a letter intently. Titty handed him an envelope.

“Peggy said, if it is to say you’ve got to go, don’t bother tidying up here – we’ll do it when you have gone. There’s a train about half past eleven you can both catch if you hurry. Mrs Blackett’s got both your uniforms hanging up and waiting for you at Beckfoot.”

John nodded, handing his letter to Nancy and looking at her letter.  

 “At least we’ll be together as far as London.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hedgehog was real, and none the worse for the chocolate, although I'm sure chocolate is not to be recommended for hedgehogs. Sadly it was the last chocolate biscuit too, which was very hard luck on my eight-year old friend.


	35. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written last summer and is perhaps therefore more in the nature of an epilogue - or even as a self-indulgence.

Together as far as London

Of course they reached the station with time to spare.  Mother and Peggy and Titty and Roger and Bridget and the D’s had all come onto the platform see them off. With so many people clustering around the carriage door, hardly anyone else tried to get in the same compartment. Bob the porter firmly ushered an anxious looking middle-aged couple who approached into another compartment.

“We may not be alone after Strickland Junction.” John said as the train pulled out of the station and Nancy final pulled her head in from the window.

“Better make the most of it.” She tried for her usual grin – and hoped it looked as usual. It certainly didn’t feel as usual.

John, already sitting down, held out an arm to her.

“My poor darling.” In the tone of voice he would never, ever, use if anyone else was present  and had only ever used two or three times even alone together.  She had completely failed to fool him. Perhaps she was glad about that. She sat down next to him, buried her face in the angle between his shoulder and neck and wrapped her arms round him. Could he feel her heart beating the way she could feel his? Was she being totally un-ruthless because she needed comfort or because he needed to comfort her?

She had, after all always known this would come. He had warned her, that very first year they met, without knowing it was a warning. “ _I’m going to be in the Navy, like Daddy.”_ She had promised herself, and him silently, that she would never complain. Not about that. She was Nancy, Captain of the Amazon.  Peggy had told John that first day they met “ _Nancy always does a thing if she says she will.”_ She wasn’t going to let either of them down, however long this lasted. She smiled.

“What is it?” John must have felt her smile.

“I was thinking – if you’d told me when I was twelve what we would be doing today, I would have been thrilled.”

“Swallows and Amazons forever?”

“Swallows and Amazons forever.”

 She kissed him. They had months’ worth of kisses to save up.  Strickland Junction came much too soon. They both nearly left their hats in the railways carriage.

                                        

* * *

 

By Preston they no longer had the compartment to themselves. Nancy smiled polite defiance at the pompous-looking man who sat opposite them. She would sit holding her husband’s hand if she wanted to. It wasn’t as if there was some kind of bye-law against it. She would even if there was.

She remembered that railway journey across Europe. Pyjamas and marmalade sandwiches. David. How terrifyingly small and vulnerable he had been.  She hoped…well, it was probably alright.

“At least we know what we’re doing it for.” she said aloud.  “More than most people, I mean.”

“Yes.” John said, thinking of Anna’s neighbour.

                                      

* * *

 

This would happen many times. She hoped. Crossing London together (preparations for war seemed more noticeable here.) Platform ticket. Hugging each other tightly and not caring who saw them. One last kiss, and then another, because you could say things in letters, but you couldn’t kiss in them, and the whistle, somehow obviously the whistle for _this_ train despite the background din, and the change in sound from the locomotive and the wheels slipping, just slightly.

“I love you.” she said, because John was her husband, and it was true no matter how many times she said it, and John said it at the same time.

And then the train started to move and she said quickly, “Swallows and Amazons for ever!” because John was her friend and ally, and always had been, and always would be.

“And ever!” The train was moving faster now and if he said anymore she couldn’t hear it, but she didn’t think he had.

And she stood and waved and watched the train. She didn’t want John to think of her weeping, but he was too far off now to see that her cheeks and eyelashes were wet. She kept her head up and waved again as if she wasn’t weeping at all, because John could probably see that.

She watched and waved waited until the train was out of sight before she took out her handkerchief and tried to make it not look as if she had been crying.


End file.
